The Twister That Hit Wichita - 04
By Tracy Johnson, KSDS Puppy Raiser of
Twister from the Storm Litter.

Yes, I have been hit by a Twister!
This is not the destructive natural disaster, but is a beautiful yellow lab puppy.
Not the spinning dark cloud that uproots trees, but a sweet four-legger who can wrap around you heart with her gentle presence.
Not the violent storm that leaves survivors homeless, but a playful spirit that brings joy to life.
Not the fast-moving force that comes and goes without warning, but a kind soul that will stay by your side or at your feet always.
Not the screaming vortex that mere humans are helpless against, but a soft, warm helper that will bring freedom and independence to her special friend one day.
Not the furious funnel that strikes without rhyme or reason, but a puppy with a purpose and a plan and a partner.
Yep, I’ve been hit, the damage is severe.

MY LEVI
By Cathy Perel, KSDS Graduate, October 1994 - 9/03

I’m sure there are members of KSDS PUPS—especially the newer members who have never met me (Hi, I’m Cathy.) You all know the responsibilities of raising a puppy for service! I want to share with you the responsibilities of having a dog in service.

Levi and I graduated on 8 October 1994. He turned two at the end of the month. (He is now 10 years, 11 months). Had I known I would not be returning to graduate school at the university of Colorado at Boulder, I would never have accepted a spot in that late September class. What a dog—what a soul, I would have missed!

I could not, nor will not, ever return to graduate school out of town. After I left Boulder in August, 1994, I’ve had 16 surgeries and spent too much time in bed. For much of that time Levi was at my side—literally. Levi heels to the bed. In the OR waiting room, he consoles and is consoled by all the other people waiting for loved ones. The hospital staff, as well as patients whom he visits, love him.

From late February to early May, 1997, I was in the hospital for two surgeries. On 1 March, I virtually ceased to breathe. I was transferred to SICU and put on a respirator. There are others who have had their service dogs in SICU, but for me that is simply unconscionable. Not only is it crowded and noisy, my responsibility is to watch over him—physically and mentally.

The concept of physical care is easy to understand. I must look out for his needs: a comfortable place to lay, protect his ears from the noise, food and water, doing his business, and to keep him safe & under control when I am receiving care. I can’t do that on high doses of narcotics and when on a respirator. On my last day I was in the only private room. The nurses insisted that he should not only visit, but visit early—so both shifts would see him, but also spend the night. I sent him home when I was transferred to MICU. Most of those cases are respiratory in nature, and I didn’t want him to catch any diseases. Of the ten weeks I was in the hospital, Levi was there for five. This last separation was because I had an open wound, and he gets an attitude if he doesn’t get his 15 minutes of cuddle time twice daily. (He has strong beliefs and hold his opinions firmly.

I must also consider his psycho-logical welfare. After my ten week hospital stay—of which he was only there for five, Levi becomes moody and depressed if he stays in the hospital more than three nights. Currently, I am confined to bed, but Levi is a dog that needs to be out and about. He needs interaction with people other than those living or visiting here. He needs more activity than playing with my other dogs and cats. Levi needs variety which, at this moment, I cannot well provide. I miss him terribly when he’s gone, but as a parent with a child, I must think of him first!

Raising a puppy for Service is a tremendous responsibility. Your work is so important! Owning a dog for service carries great responsibilities as well.

Levi ben (Son of) Banner - 9/03

By Cathy Perel, 1999

I wanted a service dog:
to retrieve dropped articles,
to open doors,
to aid me when in need.

I wanted greater independence:
to need less help,
to want for no one,
to be alone with my dog (and maybe a cat or two...or three).

That wasn’t what I got;
What I got was Levi.

Levi is not stubborn:
he just hold his opinions firmly.
He is nothing by personality:
he remains a puppy at seven.

Levi is a very good dog:
he heels well;
his recall is good;
his retrieve could be better.

Yet Levi, without a doubt,
after five years and ten surgeries,
possesses great wealth:
Understanding,
compassion,
comfort offered and received.

He isn’t the service dog I wanted…
He’s the service dog I needed.

That’s my Levi!
That’s my boy!

Lovingly dedicated to Lucille Moore. May she rest in peace until we meet at the “Rainbow Bridge”.