Doggy Destiny

I thought some of my dedicated and loyal fans (hi mom!) might be interested in learning about how we ended up where are right now.

Last February, I took my entire crew to our state capitol to participate in a medical marijuana rally. Obviously, there were tons of like-minded people there to talk to.  One, however, stood out among the others.

She was a lovely young lady, with long curly hair and a fashionable red coat.  In addition, she had at her side a large black dog.  The large black dog was wearing a harness.  Attached to the harness was a patch that said, “Seizure Alert Dog.”

Wait, what?

I had to talk to that lady.  Forget social awkwardness.  I had to talk to her.

As it turned out, this fashionable, curly headed lady had, in fact, trained her own service dog. I took her information, which she gave me gladly even though I was some awkward, Pink Floyd tee shirt wearing weirdo who more or less cornered her and bombarded her with questions. I  stayed in contact with her (Francie, as it turns out) and we talked about dogs and seizures and dogs who predict seizures.

Francie hadn’t just trained this large black German Shepherd named Segen, she had trained most of her own service dogs through the years.  More than that–she had trained service dogs for other people, and did it on her own dime.

To say I was fascinated is an understatement.


This is Francie’s doggy soul mate, Segen. To know him is to love him.  He changed Francie’s life, and as a result, changed mine as well.







We stayed in touch, and one day I received the following message: “I think I found you a dog.”

And so she did.

I won’t give you long version, although I tend to do that.  Instead, I will tell you that she found us a dog that she knew in her heart would be a good fit for us.  That’s what she does–she follows her gut and her heart, and she finds dogs for people who are having trouble with traditional service agencies. She has worked with dogs all of her life, and I consider her instinct to be infallible.  I didn’t know it when I first met her, but it did not take me long to figure it out.

I have been training Dutch, the pup she found for us last year.  He is shaping up to be an amazing dog, and has already shown proficiency for responding to Evelyn’s seizures.

See, Francie is extra special.  She doesn’t just help you, she helps you help yourself.  Teach a man to fish, et cetera, et cetera, et cetera. In training Dutch, and in being in contact with Francie, I got to be there with her when she finally gave a name to the wonderful thing she was doing for people.

K9s to Furkids was born.

Now, I am volunteering for Francie.  I’m her secretary.  I’m learning about dog behavior and training. Mostly, though, I’ve given my own life so much purpose, and filled my own heart more than I ever thought I could. I am helping Francie find these dogs and even, on a limited basis and under her guidance, doing some of the training.

I’m meeting wonderful people and doing something to help people.  I’m paying it forward, and trying to help others the way that Francie helped me.

I think there’s a lesson to be learned here.  If a socially awkward wallflower like me, the chubby girl hiding behind others in a black tee shirt and jeans, can go up to a beautiful, smart, fashionable woman walking a large black dog and start a conversation, then so can you.  You never know what the result might be.

Ask the question.  Take the leap. You never know where it might take you.

It might lead you right to the dogs!

If you are interested in what we do, or know of someone who might be in need of a service dog, check out our website!

K9s To Furkids: We All Survive on Second Chances

We are also on Facebook!


(not so) Common Sense

Generally speaking, humans are highly evolved.  As far as brains go, we are at the top of the evolutionary ladder.

As such, one would assume that it would be very difficult to fool us.  We would never fall for media trickery, pseudo-science, or political dishonesty. Right?

(Awkward pause…)

Well, I don’t know about you, but I’m feeling slightly red-faced right now.

The somewhat embarrassing truth is, for such a highly evolved species, we are quite gullible.  We accept things as fact with very little context.  Headlines and memes are used to support our opinions as opposed to genuine research and inquiry. We accept reporting from obviously biased news sources.

Worst of all, we put our faith in our government, and its agencies, thinking they have our best interests in mind when creating policies and regulations.

Spoiler alert: they don’t.

I live in West Virginia, a beautiful state full of good -hearted people.  It is also a state full of poor, unemployed, struggling people.  Our primary industry, coal, is dying, if not dead.  Most unfortunately, we are leading the nation in the opioid epidemic.

This beautiful state has been poisoned.  First is was Oxycontin and all of its cousins. Now, because pills became so expensive, heroin has made a comeback. The most infuriating aspect of all of this is that the drugs made their way into West Virginia on a prescription form.

We all sat here and watched it happen.  We enabled.  We participated.  Why? Because these were FDA approved drugs.  The government, in other words, told us to go ahead and take these drugs.  They handed us that scary paper with all of the warnings and indications and sent us on our way.

We see how that turned out.

I’m not writing about the opioid epidemic, although I certainly could.  I’m really not even writing about government corruption or the prescription pill pandemic in this country.

I’m writing because “we the people” are swallowing something infinitely worse than a prescription painkiller.

We are swallowing a load of crap.

We are swallowing the belief that the FDA is acting in the best interest of the people of this state and, indeed, this entire country.  We have convinced ourselves the government knows what is best for us.  We are errant schoolchildren who need Big Daddy to correct us upon our path and set us right.

Is that what this country was founded upon? The need of constant government interference? Think about it–they tell us what to feed our children, what to let them watch, they tell us what to eat and what to think and, of course, how to medicate ourselves.  They even tell us where we can and cannot buy our milk.  (Think I’m kidding? Do a little research into legislation concerning raw milk.)

I’m as guilty as everyone else.  Like us all, I didn’t so much agree to these things as just passively let them happen, but at the end of the road, the mode of travel is somewhat irrelevant, wouldn’t you say?

And so here we are.

Now my interest is slightly more than passive.  We are fighting epilepsy in this house, and when I say fighting it, baby, I mean fighting. We knock it down, it gets back up, more determined and sadistic than before.  I’m afraid we’re losing.  I don’t know what comes next.  Every day I feel like I’m running out of options.

Can I count on my government to help me? Another spoiler: no.

The sad fact is just the opposite.  My government is opposing me.  It is trying to keep me down and keep me from fighting for my daughter.  It seems to want epilepsy to win.  Of course no individual member of any government would admit to such a thing, but The Grandparents taught me that truth lies in the actions of a person, not the words.

The actions of the people in the government of my state and the whole country tell me a story that makes me sick.

It’s a story of men and women in positions of power groveling to big business, particularly Big Pharma, and I mean groveling, practically licking the soles of their filthy shoes, just to keep the dollars rolling in.  Our government is run by lobbyists and money.  All intentions of those first Americans who fled from tyranny are gone.

And we have allowed it to happen.

It isn’t too late to start changing things.  Passivity needs to come to an end.  That’s it in a nutshell.  We need to vote, we need to call, we need to write, we need to speak!!  We need to stop sitting back and waiting for other people to fight our fights and fix our problems.  We need to have our own backs.

I’m going to keep fighting for my daughter.  I’m going to fight for the right to treat her epilepsy with a plant if need be, regardless of the stigma that plant has gained because of a media campaign so many years ago.  I’m going to use my highly evolved brain and science and logic rather than the media and government to make my decisions.  I should have that right.  So many fought and died to give me that right, and I intend to make sure their sacrifice was not in vain.

Won’t you join me?



This is the first in my series about medical marijuana.  It started as one post, but I found that there is just too much information to share in a single shot.  Consider this as the introduction.  Please share, and stay tuned! 




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