<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8381662611380210839</id><updated>2011-08-31T07:56:58.888-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Adventures of PADS Service Dog Breeze</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://adventures-of-breeze.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8381662611380210839/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://adventures-of-breeze.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>PADS Service Dog Breeze</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09501780740496566082</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>26</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8381662611380210839.post-338966464334911401</id><published>2009-07-23T10:50:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-12T15:16:15.643-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Doggie Vignettes</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_AwmZP9Ypqf4/StOqn17geAI/AAAAAAAAAEA/jlmN3bHgO2s/s1600-h/pads+old+pic+099.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_AwmZP9Ypqf4/StOqn17geAI/AAAAAAAAAEA/jlmN3bHgO2s/s320/pads+old+pic+099.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5391840780360906754" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;So, fans, life's been busy - no time for blogging!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I do have a few quickies, though, funny little stories I think you'll enjoy - mostly from me, but one or two from Tammy...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tammy takes me most everywhere, and I get to meet all sorts of people...  People are just like dogs, you know - they come in all shapes and sizes, all colours and smells, and some even have funny hair! &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;Little Old Lady&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Like the Little Old Lady I met a while ago, while out on a gotta-go-now break; she had PURPLE hair!   I haven't seen too many dogs with purple hair, not even in the West End!  She was a nice Little Old Lady - and she traveled by wheelchair, so I felt it was my bound duty to go over and say 'hi' - and after all, I &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;was &lt;/span&gt;off work.   When I sat beside her, she gave my ears a nice scratch - she knew how to do that all right, but she sure stunk like baby powder!  That's how I knew she was a Little Old Lady.   I made her smile, and she made me smile.  I love to say 'hi' to people!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;Little Boy&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I get to meet a little boy on my evening walks - he's growing fast!  He can walk too now, and so he comes right up to give me a pet.  When we first met, he was scared of me - I'm pretty big, you know, so he'd hide behind mom's leg and peek out.  Now he waves and blows kisses, and we're good friends.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;"Poor Dog"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One day a guy got on the elevator with me and Tammy.  First he gave Tammy a dirty look.  Then he made a funny noise, like this:  "tsk tsk tsk..."  Then he gave Tammy an even dirtier look and said "Poor dog, I really feel sorry for you!"&lt;br /&gt;Well, clearly he hasn't tasted my treats, or felt the special glow you get from helping somebody!  I'm an important dog, and I know Tammy appreciates me and the ways I help her - otherwise I wouldn't get all those good things to eat!  And good pets!  And good walks!  And I get to push elevator buttons and open doors, and I don't have to wait in an old basement all day for her to come home from work - I get to go along with her!  Everywhere!  So there!&lt;br /&gt;Woof!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;"Bad Dog"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can't believe the behavior I see sometimes!  I went for a pee break downtown one day.  We walked to a park where there's a nice hill - we can watch pontoon planes take off and land - they're noisy!  It's a good spot to meet other downtown doggies, too - but they aren't service dogs, I can tell you!  Some of them are brats - and they wear funny clothes, though I guess that isn't their fault.  One spring day it was a bit muddy and slippery at the top of the hill.  A couple of us were meeting and greeting - and peeing, of course - when all of a sudden this bitch takes off down the hill at full speed, with her person hanging on to the leash for dear life!  She stayed on her feet 'til almost the bottom of the hill, just like a skier.  You could see the ruts left by her heels all the way down!  Her butt left an even bigger rut!  (She splatted in a puddle!)&lt;br /&gt;We made sure the lady was ok - she was, but she sure looked funny!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;Gummy Toes&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There's a big difference between Gummy Bears and Gummy Toes.&lt;br /&gt;Gummy Bears are apparently good to eat - not that I'd know,  Tammy never lets me have any candy.  (But she gives me peanut butter treats sometimes: mmmmmmm....)&lt;br /&gt;So, that's Gummy Bears.&lt;br /&gt;You can't eat Gummy Toes, or you'd better not, 'cause if you try, I might have to bite you.  You see, Gummy Toes are &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;my&lt;/span&gt; toes, and I get 'em from stepping on melted spit-out bubble gum stuck all over the side walk!  Yuck!&lt;br /&gt;I had to have my furry feet trimmed to get the nasty stuff off, and I don't like getting my feet trimmed!  It tickles - and the scissors scare me.&lt;br /&gt;So please, folks - think of us poor doggies walking along your sidewalks - we don't want to get stuck, or hurt.  Woof!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;Doggie Brain&lt;/span&gt; - by Tammy&lt;br /&gt;You've all heard the term 'baby brain'.  Baby brain is an effect of hormonal changes due to pregnancy, and as any mother will tell you, it never goes away.  Not even when your kids have grown up and moved out, and not even if your kid is actually a service dog.  I call it 'doggie brain'.&lt;br /&gt;An example of doggie brain: on the rare occasion that I leave PADS Service Dog Breeze home while I go out dogless, I overhear myself giving dog commands anyway.&lt;br /&gt;"Let's go", I say to my invisible golden retreiver (or worse, to my attendant...)  Or, seeing a tempting piece of KFC-smelling litter on the sidewalk, anticipating an opportunists doggie moment, sternly warning "Leave it!"&lt;br /&gt;I've gotten a few odd looks - is that lady drunk-driving her wheelchair?!  Or is she just crazy?&lt;br /&gt;I don't drive drunk...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8381662611380210839-338966464334911401?l=adventures-of-breeze.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://adventures-of-breeze.blogspot.com/feeds/338966464334911401/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8381662611380210839&amp;postID=338966464334911401' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8381662611380210839/posts/default/338966464334911401'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8381662611380210839/posts/default/338966464334911401'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://adventures-of-breeze.blogspot.com/2009/07/doggie-vignettes.html' title='Doggie Vignettes'/><author><name>PADS Service Dog Breeze</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09501780740496566082</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_AwmZP9Ypqf4/StOqn17geAI/AAAAAAAAAEA/jlmN3bHgO2s/s72-c/pads+old+pic+099.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8381662611380210839.post-2485585391215414909</id><published>2009-06-23T12:31:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-12T15:32:59.640-07:00</updated><title type='text'>9 to 5 With a Working Dog</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_AwmZP9Ypqf4/StOukLT4WhI/AAAAAAAAAEI/KdyQEvG0Nzs/s1600-h/Timbits+Small.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_AwmZP9Ypqf4/StOukLT4WhI/AAAAAAAAAEI/KdyQEvG0Nzs/s320/Timbits+Small.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5391845115427314194" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Some dogs look like grouches with attitude, some look merely odd, some fit in oven mitts, and some only in the back of pick-up trucks. But say “Golden Retriever” and everybody thinks of long silken hair and feathered legs, kindness, intelligence, attentiveness, loyalty, an easy lope and the best nose in the business, and envies the owner.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is certainly true of my Pacific Assistance Dog Society (PADS) Service Dog Breeze, the Golden Retriever.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Back in 2006 I started the process of applying for an assistance dog through PADS. As a quadriplegic woman with cerebral palsy, I am always looking for ways to increase my independence, and I seek every opportunity, tool, and technological advancement that gives me greater independence, especially when I am alone. The idea of a canine assistant to help me cope with the daily challenges of living with a physical disability intrigued me.  I knew about PADS and the valuable work they do to raise, train, and place dogs – service, hearing and facility dogs - to become sources of support and independence to people with disabilities across Western Canada.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Even during the application process, I didn’t really think I’d qualify for a PADS dog because I was already pretty independent. My career keeps me busy.  My job as a Family &amp;amp; Individual Support Worker for a major disability organization keeps me running around doing advocacy and referral, sitting on committees, running a disability awareness education program for school-age kids, and public speaking engagements.  That’s a lot of stuff: not much time left for me, never mind a dog…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But in the spring of 2007 Breeze blew into my life like a hurricane. I should have known something big was up when the voice over the phone asked whether I was sitting down… I’m a quad – I’m always sitting down! The big news was that I had been matched up with a PADS golden retriever named “Breeze.”  We were introduced shortly thereafter, and hit if off right away.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We’ve been an efficient working team for over two years now, with only a couple of bumps in the road.  She helps me in so many ways – she can turn my apartment lights on or off, open my fridge door, help me get my jacket off, and pick up my TV remote.  She can answer my telephone when it rings (well, she brings it to me when it rings – there’s nothing quite like a dog-slobbery telephone receiver…) and she can hand my debit card to a cashier or bank teller.  (I haven’t told her my password yet – dogs aren’t known for their fiscal responsibility)  And of course she goes well with every outfit; she’s a must-have fashion accessory.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I usually wake up around 7:00 am – but my day doesn’t really begin ‘til my morning help arrives: so PADS Service Dog Breeze’s first job of the day is to distract me from my full bladder.  Not a typical service dog chore, but one I greatly appreciate!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She does this by nuzzling my face from the side of my bed – she sits up and lays her beautiful furry golden chin on my mattress.  She gets as close as she can without actually breaking the no-bed rule.  It’s almost as though she’s reassuring me that my help will be arriving soon, not to worry…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Often I’m planning my day as I lay waiting to be helped out of bed – and PADS Service Dog Breeze seems to listen attentively as I run through my day: “Are all my arrangements in place? Transportation? Meals? Bathroom breaks? Cell phone charged?  Water available?”  Her wagging tail reminds me – don’t forget the doggie treats!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;PADS Service Dog Breeze likes my morning helper – it’s as though she knows this is the person who’s going to get me out of bed, and help us get ready for our day.  She answers the door with a growly, tail-waggy, enthusiastic ‘good morning’ bark.  And she supervises the morning routine: everything from the first transfer from bed to chair, to the moment I’m washed, brushed, dressed, and about to eat my breakfast.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;While my morning routine can sometimes be arduous – it’s not easy for a quadriplegic woman to get into a tailored blazer or fitted blouse – PADS Service Dog Breeze’s dressing routine transforms her from loved companion to no-nonsense professional in the blink of an eye.  Or, more accurately, the fastening of a Velcro strap…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I give the command, she stands at attention, and the PADS vest goes on; that’s when her tail stops wagging, her ears go on high alert, her expression turns serious, and she’s all business.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then it’s out the door and off to work with PADS Service Dog Breeze by my side.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My work commute means I’ve taken the same train at the same time, several days a week for a number of years.  You’d think people would be over the novelty of seeing a dog on the job by now, but they aren’t.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;PADS Service Dog Breeze has reached celebrity status, which can be a real pain in the tail when you just want to go home and crash after work, like everybody else.  I allow for an extra ten minutes each way now, so that I can accommodate all the folks who want to know about my dog.  Sometimes I don’t want to be social, but I always try to smile and use these encounters as opportunities do a little service-dog education.  It’s astonishing how many people ask if they can pet my dog, while staring at the large, clear, and graphic “DO NOT PET” sign on her vest…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Even worse are those who don’t ask, and simply ignore the sign…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The fact is, engaging a working animal can be a major distraction, and a distracted dog won’t perform well.  Imagine a seeing-eye dog taking its person across a busy street – a distraction could be tragic for both dog and human. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When PADS Service Dog Breeze spends the day in my office, she helps me by picking up the pen I’ve dropped on the floor – and she never seems to get exasperated, even after the fourth or fifth time…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But it’s the times we’re away from the desk and out in the community that she really shines.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I’m visiting elementary schools with my Disability Awareness Presentation, PADS Service Dog Breeze comes along.  I talk to kids about disability issues – how to recognize mobility challenges, seeing disability as a natural aspect of human diversity, and how to support peers who have disabilities.  I also demonstrate some adaptive equipment, including my service dog.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Naturally PADS Service Dog Breeze is the star of every show, and when you mix dogs and kids, you get a lot of ‘awwwwwwwww’ moments.  The children love it when she demonstrates picking up a dropped item like a TV remote, which even the lowliest mutt can learn to do.  They’re amazed when she takes my jacket off for me, however.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Her very presence helps bring attention to attitudinal barriers, and that’s what I really want to address in my presentation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;People who used to avoid making eye contact with the lady in the wheelchair now initiate conversation because they want to know more about Breeze. So she has become much more than a useful and loyal companion who has greatly increased my independence.  She’s also a natural ice-breaker who’s with me during my commute, during presentations, during meetings with clients, and on weekends when I work with youth.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I’m convinced she helps bridge all the gaps between me and the people I encounter every day – the generation gap, the social gaps, the abilities gaps, even the language barrier.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All the wonderful attributes that make her a good service dog are the same ones that make her a good dog – she’s loyal and obedient, and she loves me.  She’s a source of real pleasure when at the end of the day her working-dog vest comes off and she goes to play at the park like any other dog.  And at bedtime, when we’re alone she’s just my good dog, resting at my feet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;PADS Service Dog Breeze has become an integral part of my personal and professional life, and I can’t imagine doing without her now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For more information on the Pacific Assistance Dog Society (PADS) and to find out how you can help, go to www.pads.ca&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8381662611380210839-2485585391215414909?l=adventures-of-breeze.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://adventures-of-breeze.blogspot.com/feeds/2485585391215414909/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8381662611380210839&amp;postID=2485585391215414909' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8381662611380210839/posts/default/2485585391215414909'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8381662611380210839/posts/default/2485585391215414909'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://adventures-of-breeze.blogspot.com/2009/06/9-to-5-with-working-dog.html' title='9 to 5 With a Working Dog'/><author><name>PADS Service Dog Breeze</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09501780740496566082</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_AwmZP9Ypqf4/StOukLT4WhI/AAAAAAAAAEI/KdyQEvG0Nzs/s72-c/Timbits+Small.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8381662611380210839.post-113177726442898909</id><published>2009-06-23T10:16:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-23T10:44:46.830-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A Romano By Every Other Name</title><content type='html'>So, we’re at a meeting the other day: I’m minding my own business under the conference table, when all of a sudden I smell an old acquaintance coming along.&lt;br /&gt;It’s my old buddy Romano, the seeing-eye dog.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He’s getting a bit grizzled around the muzzle, but still very handsome.  He’s a true professional, too, absolutely ignores me until he’s settled down under the table.&lt;br /&gt;After that I made sure he didn’t ignore me – I gave him a friendly ‘woof’ (and got in trouble for it) and next thing you know, he’s asking me for my number.  Too bad I can’t count…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Romano and I listened in on our peoples’ conversation, and we heard a whole bunch of really boring stuff, and one funny story.  Here’s the funny story.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Romano has worked for his man for a long time – almost ten years.  And they’ve lived next door to the same lady for all those years. And this lady has called Romano by the wrong name for all ten of those years!  Not the same wrong name, mind you – a different wrong name every time!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So Romano has been called Parmesan, Calabrese, Sicily, Lasagna, Ricotta: if it’s an Italian cheese, region, or pasta, Romano has been called it!&lt;br /&gt;  &lt;br /&gt;Finally his man came up with a very clever idea: he told the sweet old-lady neighbour to just call Romano... ...Diogi.  Pronounced Dee-OH-Gee: get it? D. O. G… &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love it, but the funniest part is that she can’t remember that either, so he’s still Tortellini today, maybe Mozzarella tomorrow!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8381662611380210839-113177726442898909?l=adventures-of-breeze.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://adventures-of-breeze.blogspot.com/feeds/113177726442898909/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8381662611380210839&amp;postID=113177726442898909' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8381662611380210839/posts/default/113177726442898909'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8381662611380210839/posts/default/113177726442898909'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://adventures-of-breeze.blogspot.com/2009/06/romano-by-every-other-name.html' title='A Romano By Every Other Name'/><author><name>PADS Service Dog Breeze</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09501780740496566082</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8381662611380210839.post-5308482883607094224</id><published>2008-11-01T17:13:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-11-01T17:19:52.919-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A Case of Mistaken Identity</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_AwmZP9Ypqf4/SQzxG-gG3wI/AAAAAAAAADc/452mK9vuSTA/s1600-h/IMGP0115.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5263847166648442626" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_AwmZP9Ypqf4/SQzxG-gG3wI/AAAAAAAAADc/452mK9vuSTA/s320/IMGP0115.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Yesterday was a weird day. I know, because I heard Tammy say so more than once.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You know the kind of day: a day of leaving for work late because of unexpected company; a day of running into an old friend – the kind you can’t just nod ‘hi' to and keep on going; a day of erratic driving,- not by Tammy, but by those crazies making scary left-hand turns; a day of uprights treading thoughtlessly along and almost stepping on my doggie toes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then of course there was the case of mistaken identity. On our way home from work we wanted to cross at our usual intersection. I waited, vecroded to Tammy’s side just like she commanded. When suddenly, a lady stepped smartly in front of us, blocking Tammy’s view of the pedestrian signal. The lady was “very helpful”. She began to provide a detailed description to Tammy of the pedestrian signals, the traffic patterns and general flow of the people walking by.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“The little walk-man is flashing,” she exclaimed. “You can’t go! Now the red hand is on! Stay where you are!” She said to Tammy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I’m sitting there thinking to myself – I didn’t know Tammy is blind - she leads me everywhere. And, if Tammy is blind, am I a seeing eye dog? because I didn’t get trained for that, and it isn’t in my job description.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I could see that Tammy was stuck somewhere between being annoyed and wanting to laugh at the absurdity of the whole situation. We ended up having to sit through 2 lights while that lady “helped” us - and Tammy just shook her head and smiled sweetly. Aaargh! Finally she let us pass, and as we did, Tammy said, “I like your styling boots!” You should have seen the look on her face!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, if you see a dog wearing a jacket/vest with no harness, it’s likely not a guide dog. Also, if my handler is making eye contact with you while you talk and comments on how stylin’ your boots are, it’s probably safe to assume that she or he is not blind! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8381662611380210839-5308482883607094224?l=adventures-of-breeze.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://adventures-of-breeze.blogspot.com/feeds/5308482883607094224/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8381662611380210839&amp;postID=5308482883607094224' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8381662611380210839/posts/default/5308482883607094224'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8381662611380210839/posts/default/5308482883607094224'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://adventures-of-breeze.blogspot.com/2008/11/case-of-mistaken-identity.html' title='A Case of Mistaken Identity'/><author><name>PADS Service Dog Breeze</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09501780740496566082</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_AwmZP9Ypqf4/SQzxG-gG3wI/AAAAAAAAADc/452mK9vuSTA/s72-c/IMGP0115.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8381662611380210839.post-6787698242001963005</id><published>2008-09-25T11:58:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-25T12:20:44.037-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Dogged Perseverence</title><content type='html'>Personally, I  don't watch Jackie Chan movies.  That's 'cause I'm a dog; I prefer Lassie.  But if I did watch martial arts movies, or think about Karate, I probably wouldn't think of a kid who has cerebral palsy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But we went to a awards ceremony a while ago to recognize the achievements of a 12 year old&lt;br /&gt;kid who has cp and practices the discipline of karate.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;His achievements deserve recognition because of what they mean for every one of us: I'm a dog, and I help a lady who has cp, so I know about going beyond expectations.  Nobody expects a dog to open a door, either.  Or to run a blog, for that matter...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;People who do martial arts typically share certain attributes: things like determination, passion, commitment and stamina, along with physical gifts like strength, agility, a good sense of balance, and speedy reflexes.  Most of them probably don’t begin training with the kinds of neurological deficits that come with cp.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Karate is an activity that requires balance, muscle coordination, aerobic fitness, strength and flexibility..   So what do you do if you want to learn karate but you were born without all of these gifts?  You use the gifts you DO have, and that’s what this kid did. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He had the determination, guts, and focus to go after what he knew he was capable of, despite appearances. He had enough inner stamina and strength to more than compensate for the physical effects of cp.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He was encouraged by  teachers and classmates who treated him like everybody else, but it was his own effort, sweat, and determination that kept him at it.  And it was that same - ahem- dogged perseverance that saw him keep at it and win medals and belts!&lt;br /&gt;And so his career continues; this small-town kid who has cp but practices karate anyway, and earns his belts and medals. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Silver and bronze medals, green and purple belts. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is a kid whose parents were told he wouldn’t walk without leg braces, and that he’d never ride a bicycle. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But he walks, rides, golfs, swims, plays volleyball, cross country skis, and let’s not forget, practices the discipline of karate. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He's one of those people who doesn't stop striving, and that's why his accomplishments deserve to be recognized.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, kiddo, on behalf of service dogs everywhere who know about learning new skills and not giving up even when stuff doesn't come naturally, congratulations!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8381662611380210839-6787698242001963005?l=adventures-of-breeze.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://adventures-of-breeze.blogspot.com/feeds/6787698242001963005/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8381662611380210839&amp;postID=6787698242001963005' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8381662611380210839/posts/default/6787698242001963005'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8381662611380210839/posts/default/6787698242001963005'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://adventures-of-breeze.blogspot.com/2008/09/dogged-perseverence.html' title='Dogged Perseverence'/><author><name>PADS Service Dog Breeze</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09501780740496566082</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8381662611380210839.post-3136087007794178537</id><published>2008-09-25T11:41:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-25T11:58:23.688-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Chewy Chewbacca: Morning Song</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_AwmZP9Ypqf4/SNvenf2qM6I/AAAAAAAAADU/ZHAeuBjGHHY/s1600-h/IMG_4795_1_1.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5250034560777466786" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_AwmZP9Ypqf4/SNvenf2qM6I/AAAAAAAAADU/ZHAeuBjGHHY/s320/IMG_4795_1_1.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I love mornings! My morning routine has earned me the nickname Chewy Chewbacca, as in the hairy Star Wars co-pilot. Tammy calls it moaning, groaning, and growling, but really it's singing. I'm an outgoing girl, I'm friendly, why shouldn't I be gregarious and boisterous? Every day is a potential party day for me! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I know what to do - I wake up around 7:15 every morning, poking my nose under Tammy's dangling hand. You see, we know the doorbell is going to ring any minute, and then it's time to start our day. I do sit nicely by her bed, waiting for the 'release' command before I say 'good morning' to the attendant, but first I run in circles and grab my Nyla bone off the shelf to show her, and let her know it's time to go pee. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I stay happy and eager throughout the whole morning routine - I never bark, (of course!) but I talks and sing, and top off my good morning with a double-hug once Tammy's up. A double-hug means both the attendant and Tammy are hugging and petting me at the same time. I really can't decide whose torso my head should be buried in... It's all too good! It's one of mys happiest  times, just as wonderful as running in the park, and our mornings wouldn't be complete without it. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8381662611380210839-3136087007794178537?l=adventures-of-breeze.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://adventures-of-breeze.blogspot.com/feeds/3136087007794178537/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8381662611380210839&amp;postID=3136087007794178537' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8381662611380210839/posts/default/3136087007794178537'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8381662611380210839/posts/default/3136087007794178537'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://adventures-of-breeze.blogspot.com/2008/09/chewy-chewbacca-morning-song.html' title='Chewy Chewbacca: Morning Song'/><author><name>PADS Service Dog Breeze</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09501780740496566082</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_AwmZP9Ypqf4/SNvenf2qM6I/AAAAAAAAADU/ZHAeuBjGHHY/s72-c/IMG_4795_1_1.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8381662611380210839.post-1869350719211237428</id><published>2008-09-25T11:26:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-25T11:40:42.854-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Doggie Dine 'N Dash</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_AwmZP9Ypqf4/SNvaxUQMdbI/AAAAAAAAADM/ahMSqP0yJow/s1600-h/s598597322_1212108_2594.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5250030331415524786" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_AwmZP9Ypqf4/SNvaxUQMdbI/AAAAAAAAADM/ahMSqP0yJow/s320/s598597322_1212108_2594.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Let's not forget I'm still very much a dog, and that means I'm an opportunist. One time we got home from an elementary school disability awareness presentation out in the boonies. I was starving - we'd gone to two separate schools that day, spoken to about 600 children, and hadn't had a chance to stop and eat our lunch. (Not to mention the fact that I tend to be -ahem- forgotten at lunch time: how come two legged people eat three times a day, and four legged ones only get two meals a day?! Something wrong there!) I was really looking forward to sitting down and enjoying a nice chicken salad sandwich and chocolate chip cookies... Well, technically they weren't mine, especially the chocolate chip cookies, which I hear are bad for me...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;See, Tammy made a quick pit stop to the washroom - and left the sandwich on the kitchen counter. She thought it was out of my reach, but after all, I am a trained professional. It's my job to reach things, and most of the time Tammy's pretty darned happy with my determination and initiative. Anyhowl, by the time she got out of the washroom, all the evidence was gone, except a few crumbs on the floor. Why shouldn't I have a chicken salad sandwich and a couple of cookies...? I worked very hard that day! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;But who said life was fair; she grounded me for that one. No food for 24 hours! We both learned a lesson - I learned that I'd better make sure the next sandwich left unattended isn't hers, and she learned that not much is out of reach for a skilled and determined dog! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8381662611380210839-1869350719211237428?l=adventures-of-breeze.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://adventures-of-breeze.blogspot.com/feeds/1869350719211237428/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8381662611380210839&amp;postID=1869350719211237428' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8381662611380210839/posts/default/1869350719211237428'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8381662611380210839/posts/default/1869350719211237428'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://adventures-of-breeze.blogspot.com/2008/09/doggie-dine-n-dash.html' title='Doggie Dine &apos;N Dash'/><author><name>PADS Service Dog Breeze</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09501780740496566082</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_AwmZP9Ypqf4/SNvaxUQMdbI/AAAAAAAAADM/ahMSqP0yJow/s72-c/s598597322_1212108_2594.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8381662611380210839.post-2008991382123499283</id><published>2008-08-03T15:04:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-03T15:14:09.228-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A Day at the Park</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_AwmZP9Ypqf4/SJYrzsHUnTI/AAAAAAAAACc/cqRqSCd57_o/s1600-h/DerekFlying.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5230416184252603698" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_AwmZP9Ypqf4/SJYrzsHUnTI/AAAAAAAAACc/cqRqSCd57_o/s320/DerekFlying.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I can't blog for too long right now, 'cause I'm about to head off to the park with Tammy and my favorite friend, Derek (Tammy's brother). That's him flying through the air on the right. The three of use are heading to the nearby dog park with treats and a lunch! Hopefully I'll sneak some of their food, but Derek is a pretty observant dude. Whenever we go to the park, Tammy usually puts me through my paces, which I've always hated. But eventually I always get some time to sniff things, roll in the grass, play with the other dogs and run around with Derek.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8381662611380210839-2008991382123499283?l=adventures-of-breeze.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://adventures-of-breeze.blogspot.com/feeds/2008991382123499283/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8381662611380210839&amp;postID=2008991382123499283' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8381662611380210839/posts/default/2008991382123499283'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8381662611380210839/posts/default/2008991382123499283'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://adventures-of-breeze.blogspot.com/2008/08/day-at-park.html' title='A Day at the Park'/><author><name>PADS Service Dog Breeze</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09501780740496566082</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp2.blogger.com/_AwmZP9Ypqf4/SJYrzsHUnTI/AAAAAAAAACc/cqRqSCd57_o/s72-c/DerekFlying.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8381662611380210839.post-4948387780284340708</id><published>2008-07-30T10:47:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-03T19:18:12.459-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Walk and Roll 2008</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_AwmZP9Ypqf4/SJCqs0QeFsI/AAAAAAAAACU/09v6SrliMSk/s1600-h/Banner%2520-%2520Web.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5228866854295836354" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_AwmZP9Ypqf4/SJCqs0QeFsI/AAAAAAAAACU/09v6SrliMSk/s320/Banner%2520-%2520Web.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;MEMO&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;DATE: July 22, 2008&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;TO: My Fabulous Fans, Friends, and Colleagues&lt;br /&gt;FROM: Breeze, PADS Assistance Dog&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;SUBJECT: PACIFIC ASSISTANCE DOG SOCIETY (PADS) “WALK &amp;amp; ROLL FOR INDEPENDENCE 2008”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The humans among you are no doubt familiar with Sir Bob Geldof’s 1985 Live Aid Concert, or, more recently, the Black Eyed Peas’ June 2 concert benefiting survivors of China’s devastating May 12 earthquake.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So you know what tree I’m barking up when I say “Charity Fundraiser”.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I’m a dog with a mission, and right now that mission is to make sure PADS is always there to raise and train dogs like me to help people with disabilities to live more independently.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pacific Assistance Dog Society (PADS) raises and trains Service, Hearing, and Facility/Therapy dogs for persons who are facing the daily challenges of life with a physical disability, who are deaf or hard of hearing, or are living in long-term care facilities.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just to give you an idea, I help Tammy every day with things like opening and closing doors, bringing her the phone when it rings, pushing the buttons on the elevator, turning the lights on and off, helping her take her jacket off, and picking up stuff she’s dropped on the floor. (That one does come pretty naturally, as I’m a golden retriever…)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So it costs about $35,000 to train each PADS dog. My personal goal is to raise $500 at this year’s ‘Walk &amp;amp; Roll For Independence’ August 24th in Burnaby’s Central Park. 100% of contributions go to meeting PADS fundraising budget goal of $591,000 for 2008.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;PADS is proud to be Canada’s only fully accredited member of Assistance Dogs International (ADI).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;PADS does a good job so that dogs like me can do a good job. Please sponsor me and Tammy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You can check out PADS website at &lt;a href="http://www.pads.ca/"&gt;http://www.pads.ca/&lt;/a&gt; or contact me through my email, &lt;a href="mailto:breeze@pads.ca"&gt;breeze@pads.ca&lt;/a&gt; for more information.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Thanks!&lt;br /&gt;PADS Service Dog Breeze&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Woof! Woof! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8381662611380210839-4948387780284340708?l=adventures-of-breeze.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://adventures-of-breeze.blogspot.com/feeds/4948387780284340708/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8381662611380210839&amp;postID=4948387780284340708' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8381662611380210839/posts/default/4948387780284340708'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8381662611380210839/posts/default/4948387780284340708'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://adventures-of-breeze.blogspot.com/2008/07/walk-and-roll-2008.html' title='Walk and Roll 2008'/><author><name>PADS Service Dog Breeze</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09501780740496566082</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp3.blogger.com/_AwmZP9Ypqf4/SJCqs0QeFsI/AAAAAAAAACU/09v6SrliMSk/s72-c/Banner%2520-%2520Web.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8381662611380210839.post-9103418310057359030</id><published>2008-07-29T11:21:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-29T11:35:36.788-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Wall-E</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_AwmZP9Ypqf4/SI9ir_ZjwhI/AAAAAAAAACM/SeQvYsZUUz0/s1600-h/wall-e-20071115040554477.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5228506200292966930" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_AwmZP9Ypqf4/SI9ir_ZjwhI/AAAAAAAAACM/SeQvYsZUUz0/s320/wall-e-20071115040554477.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I went to the movies with Tammy last week. We saw Wall-E. Wall-E is a robot - he was cute, but no fur... And he runs on solar cells.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I run on treats and affection!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There was popcorn on the floor, but not as much as I'd have liked. I only managed to get one piece before Tammy caught me. Too bad popcorn is so noisy! It was dark enough that I could've sneaked a lot more, but it's so darn crunchy and loud!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me and Wall-E actually have quite a bit in common; he doesn't talk much, either. We're both skilled at non-verbal communication. He uses his eyebrows a lot, just like me - Tammy calls me Miss Shifty Eyes. I talk with my growly growls and pouty mouth, doggie smile, and bouncy step, too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wall-E has cold metal hands, though, and my paws are soft and warm and furry. I'd rather be hugged by me than Wall-E any time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tammy says Wall-E is the best animated movie she's seen, and she's recommending it to everybody she knows.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That Wall-E sure is cute, but he doesn't out-cute me, and he can't out-perform me, either!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8381662611380210839-9103418310057359030?l=adventures-of-breeze.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://adventures-of-breeze.blogspot.com/feeds/9103418310057359030/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8381662611380210839&amp;postID=9103418310057359030' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8381662611380210839/posts/default/9103418310057359030'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8381662611380210839/posts/default/9103418310057359030'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://adventures-of-breeze.blogspot.com/2008/07/wall-e.html' title='Wall-E'/><author><name>PADS Service Dog Breeze</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09501780740496566082</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp3.blogger.com/_AwmZP9Ypqf4/SI9ir_ZjwhI/AAAAAAAAACM/SeQvYsZUUz0/s72-c/wall-e-20071115040554477.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8381662611380210839.post-6970313169248222413</id><published>2008-07-29T10:38:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-29T11:21:22.935-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Birthday Shennanigans</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_AwmZP9Ypqf4/SI9fFB-8oKI/AAAAAAAAACE/gqYOsQgvVpU/s1600-h/15709663_6ff2ddda54.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5228502232436875426" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_AwmZP9Ypqf4/SI9fFB-8oKI/AAAAAAAAACE/gqYOsQgvVpU/s320/15709663_6ff2ddda54.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;What a coincidence! Tammy and I have been a team for a year, and Tammy just had her I-won't-say-which-but-it-has-a-four-and-a-zero-in-it birthday. So we made it a double celebration.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The day started off normally enough, and stayed normal until &lt;em&gt;somebody&lt;/em&gt; -I won't name names- decided to dress me up in a birthday hat... Who is a girl to trust? One &lt;em&gt;somebody&lt;/em&gt; coos and slobbers about how cute I look, while the other laughs herself nearly out of her chair. I know the difference between cute and ridiculous, and I don't do ridiculous. Nobody tried to put a hat on Rocket, did they? I suppose if I allowed myself to bite an arm off, or scratch out an eye, my dignity would be intact, too. But of course I'm a PADS Service Dog, so no arm biting; by the same token, no PADS dog should have to be seen in public wearing a dunce cap!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Tammy got away with a tasteful blue ribbon around my neck - it went nicely with my PADS uniform. Oh, and a bib, even though I didn't get a steak to go with it...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;We went to a fancy Italian restaurant, and everything smelled so good! And all of my favourite people were there, even Tammy's brother, who takes me for good times in the park. He's my best human boyfriend! PADS Service Dog Leo was there too; I barked 'hi'. He's a golden retriever, like me, but his coat is more reddish. He's handsome, and I hope we get a play-date together some day, but I get nervous when I hear Tammy say she'd like to trade dogs for a day. Does she really mean it?!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So there we were - great food everywhere (except on the floor where I could appreciate it) lots of people who love and admire me, and yes, someone remembered me and included doggie treats with their present to Tammy. (She hid them around the house somewhere, but I'll track them down eventually.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Tammy got a beautiful new purse, which she chose because it matches my fur so well. She could have gone with a complementary colour; I don't think she has the same appreciation for fur that I have. A drawback of being human, I guess. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;It's been a year. We really are a team now. We take care of each other, and I'm looking forward to many more birthday celebrations together. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I hope I get some cake next time!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;(Pics on the way - that gal looks like me, but she's a model from Google images...)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8381662611380210839-6970313169248222413?l=adventures-of-breeze.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://adventures-of-breeze.blogspot.com/feeds/6970313169248222413/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8381662611380210839&amp;postID=6970313169248222413' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8381662611380210839/posts/default/6970313169248222413'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8381662611380210839/posts/default/6970313169248222413'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://adventures-of-breeze.blogspot.com/2008/07/birthday-shennanigans.html' title='Birthday Shennanigans'/><author><name>PADS Service Dog Breeze</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09501780740496566082</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp1.blogger.com/_AwmZP9Ypqf4/SI9fFB-8oKI/AAAAAAAAACE/gqYOsQgvVpU/s72-c/15709663_6ff2ddda54.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8381662611380210839.post-7396465839250571874</id><published>2008-07-29T10:21:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-29T10:37:44.255-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Art for Arf's Sake</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_AwmZP9Ypqf4/SI9VWGtnrAI/AAAAAAAAAB0/_HddLTarp14/s1600-h/krazy_big.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5228491530647874562" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_AwmZP9Ypqf4/SI9VWGtnrAI/AAAAAAAAAB0/_HddLTarp14/s320/krazy_big.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Tammy makes sure I get a thorough foundation in the arts. I'm a cultured dog; I know art now. (And by the way, that doggie lamp is &lt;em&gt;still &lt;/em&gt;in the window - not sold. Hmmm.....)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;So we went to the Art Gallery. There was an exhibition on Anime, comics, and video games. I guess this stuff is just now being recognised as a legitimate art form, so the exhibition included some history of stuff like cartoons, graphic novels, computer games, and so on.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Some of it was really cool, and some of it I found most disturbing... I might say some of it has gone to the dogs, except I try to avoid such obvious puns!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I know Tammy and her brother really enjoyed themselves, but as for me, I could take it or leave it. I did sense a bit of irritation on Tammy's part, as the art-appreciating public was especially attentive to me that day. Maybe they thought I was part of the exhibition!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;But I think Tammy wanted to be left alone to enjoy the show without having to discuss me and my job all day. We were even disturbed as we ate our lunch in the cafe. Tammy politely offered to answer questions after lunch.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Remember humans, I'm busy working. And Tammy's busy trying to live her life. I sure wish there was a polite way to say "Mind your own business!!"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;But there it is: the life of a working dog is the life of a celebrity.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8381662611380210839-7396465839250571874?l=adventures-of-breeze.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://adventures-of-breeze.blogspot.com/feeds/7396465839250571874/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8381662611380210839&amp;postID=7396465839250571874' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8381662611380210839/posts/default/7396465839250571874'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8381662611380210839/posts/default/7396465839250571874'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://adventures-of-breeze.blogspot.com/2008/07/art-for-arfs-sake.html' title='Art for Arf&apos;s Sake'/><author><name>PADS Service Dog Breeze</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09501780740496566082</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp0.blogger.com/_AwmZP9Ypqf4/SI9VWGtnrAI/AAAAAAAAAB0/_HddLTarp14/s72-c/krazy_big.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8381662611380210839.post-9214066544523800113</id><published>2008-07-14T10:39:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-14T11:14:20.235-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Roller Coaster Ride up a Mountain</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_AwmZP9Ypqf4/SHuXUbN3qbI/AAAAAAAAABs/fDFif_G2YIg/s1600-h/156418654_4043262833.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5222934570025331122" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_AwmZP9Ypqf4/SHuXUbN3qbI/AAAAAAAAABs/fDFif_G2YIg/s320/156418654_4043262833.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;So Tammy and I went mountain climbing last week. Well, adapted mountain climbing: we did go up a mountain, but we didn't use pitons, ropes, or rappelling gear. We took the civilized route, up the side of the mountain via tram, in a gondola that I'm sure must be very safe, but which sways most alarmingly from time to time... I'm sure Tammy was OK with this ride, but my ears were popping like crazy; I laid quietly under a bench and tried not to look down.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Sometimes people went "oooooh!" as the gondola passed the cable tower and lurched in a tummy-flopping way. I don't like tummy-flopping stuff. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I heard somebody talking about a black bear cub and a deer, but since they were far, far away on the safe and solid ground I just left them alone. They didn't seem to be a danger to any of my people.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Tammy brought her parents along, which is always a bonus for me, 'cause even though they know the service-dog no spoiling rules, I still get the occasional surreptitious pat on the head or scratch behind the ears. Dad loves me, I can tell.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I got to ride in the car with them, too, which almost made up for the roller-coaster ride up the mountain. Almost...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Of course, another benefit of playing tourist is all the people that can't keep their eyes (and sometimes hands!) off me. I'm so popular, Tammy always has to keep my fans at bay. That's the price of stardom, I suppose. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;We watched a cheesy lumberjack show while we were up on the mountaintop waiting for our lunch. They made chainsaw carvings, performed tree-topping stunts, and log-rolling maneuvers, and it was fun to see the crowd's enthusiasm, though personally I wanted to get indoors away from all the blackflies and skeeters! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;After lunch - where I was the model service dog, lying under the table NOT BEGGING, or shaking (even though I was itchy from the blackflies) or being noticed, while all around me people were eating - we took the cable car back down. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I enjoyed the cool, fresh, pine-scented air up on the mountain, but I was pleased to have all four paws firmly planted on the ground again.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8381662611380210839-9214066544523800113?l=adventures-of-breeze.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://adventures-of-breeze.blogspot.com/feeds/9214066544523800113/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8381662611380210839&amp;postID=9214066544523800113' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8381662611380210839/posts/default/9214066544523800113'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8381662611380210839/posts/default/9214066544523800113'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://adventures-of-breeze.blogspot.com/2008/07/roller-coaster-ride-up-mountain.html' title='Roller Coaster Ride up a Mountain'/><author><name>PADS Service Dog Breeze</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09501780740496566082</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp1.blogger.com/_AwmZP9Ypqf4/SHuXUbN3qbI/AAAAAAAAABs/fDFif_G2YIg/s72-c/156418654_4043262833.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8381662611380210839.post-7966779980564099627</id><published>2008-06-30T11:02:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-30T11:04:46.106-07:00</updated><title type='text'>KIDS</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_AwmZP9Ypqf4/SGkgJiD0IxI/AAAAAAAAABk/R5MMqzVdmiM/s1600-h/P1000473.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5217736991419147026" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_AwmZP9Ypqf4/SGkgJiD0IxI/AAAAAAAAABk/R5MMqzVdmiM/s320/P1000473.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Some are small, some are big, some are sticky, some are loud, but one thing’s for sure – I love kids! And kids love me!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So you know I go to work with Tammy; and you know Tammy works with kids sometimes. Well, last week we had a few kids come to her office as part of their youth philanthropy project for their high school socials class. They had to do research about Tammy’s organization, which included interviewing her about her work.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I quietly sat under the desk, even though those researchers were my favorite kind of people – young, energetic boys! I really wanted to play, but all I did was a polite paw-shake.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They came up and spent the day with us, cleaning the office, re-organizing stuff, and just generally learning how to be bossed around. It was fun to watch, and lots more interesting to see than the usual sitting around at a computer. For once, it wasn’t me being bossed around by Tammy!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They got pizza, though, and I don’t think that’s very fair. They didn’t even offer me any. I do more work around there than they do, and I don’t get offered pizza. Those boys were nice, and I bet they’d have given me a piece if Tammy hadn’t been there… I love pepperoni!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We see people all the time in our travels, and so I’ve gotten to know lots of people and they’ve gotten to know me and Tammy. (In fact I get the distinct impression that sometimes she wishes I was invisible, because I get so darned much attention! Well, that’s the price of celebrity, I guess.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There’s this one little boy we meet just about every evening at Poo Corner: he’s only about one, just getting steady on his feet, and he rides a big Tonka truck along the path. I probably look scary to him, but that doesn’t stop him from babbling “doddie, doddie!” whenever he sees me, and when I go to say hi to him, (the official greeting) he tries to pet me. His hands are so little, and he’s not quite sure how to pet me yet, but he’s learning, and what he lacks in skill, he makes up for in enthusiasm.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I’m a translator now, too, ‘cause even though his mom doesn’t speak English, she stops to talk to Tammy and me every night. And I can tell by the smiles on everybody’s faces that they’ve all gotten over the language barrier. Cool, eh? I don’t speak English, and I don’t speak Cantonese, but whenever I’m around, we all understand each other!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That’s really a bonus in Tammy’s other work, too. She works with disabled youth on the weekends, and some of them can hardly speak, but after a few weekends with me, they learn to communicate somehow! They all remember my name, and some kids that hardly participated at first are now helping out by giving me water in my travel dish. It’s one of their favourite activities.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Next week we’re taking them to the beach! That ought to be fun for them, but I have to stay out of the water. And I’m a golden retriever! You know what I was born for? Getting stuff out of the water! I shoulda been a lifeguard dog….&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8381662611380210839-7966779980564099627?l=adventures-of-breeze.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://adventures-of-breeze.blogspot.com/feeds/7966779980564099627/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8381662611380210839&amp;postID=7966779980564099627' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8381662611380210839/posts/default/7966779980564099627'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8381662611380210839/posts/default/7966779980564099627'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://adventures-of-breeze.blogspot.com/2008/06/kids.html' title='KIDS'/><author><name>PADS Service Dog Breeze</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09501780740496566082</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp1.blogger.com/_AwmZP9Ypqf4/SGkgJiD0IxI/AAAAAAAAABk/R5MMqzVdmiM/s72-c/P1000473.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8381662611380210839.post-5030177440419417535</id><published>2008-05-27T11:11:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-27T11:17:17.608-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Coming and Going</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_AwmZP9Ypqf4/SDxQD99PYdI/AAAAAAAAABc/xP405RFkN2M/s1600-h/Breeze12.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5205123298434703826" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_AwmZP9Ypqf4/SDxQD99PYdI/AAAAAAAAABc/xP405RFkN2M/s320/Breeze12.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Tammy’s lucky; she does some of her work from home, with me sitting comfortably under her desk, but even so I’m at the office with her several times a month for meetings, and stuff. “Off to work” means going on the train, and that means having other people want to pet me. It can also mean a substantial wait, so it would be nice to have a treat or smoky bone along to gnaw on.&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes we take a bus, and Tammy has to think ahead to the bus stop: will there be a shelter, or will we be at the mercy of Vancouver’s mercurial elements? Tammy’s not very waterproof, but I love the rain! People should just learn to appreciate the smell of wet golden retriever…&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes we go to the gym; and I can see people trying not to stare (at me or Tammy, I don’t really know which – maybe both of us!) but since we’re surrounded by mirrors, their efforts are both pitiful and funny. Sometimes I flirt with them in the mirrors, to see whether I can make them break their funny stretching poses, but usually I just ignore them and go about my own business. And sometimes Tammy gets to show up an ‘upright’, (her term for those of you who are able-bodied.) I think she likes to throw a monkey wrench into those preconceived notions of what a person with a disability can accomplish. It’s fun to see and I know she doesn’t gloat.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tammy’s had 39 years to develop the sense of humour that helps her deal with the attitudinal and systemic barriers that still prevail. That sense of humour lets her get away with calling me the ‘fluffy blonde’ – even though I’m one of the tools that help her with those barriers! (Well, I am blonde, and after my bath, I’m fluffy, too. So I guess that’s ok.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8381662611380210839-5030177440419417535?l=adventures-of-breeze.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://adventures-of-breeze.blogspot.com/feeds/5030177440419417535/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8381662611380210839&amp;postID=5030177440419417535' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8381662611380210839/posts/default/5030177440419417535'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8381662611380210839/posts/default/5030177440419417535'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://adventures-of-breeze.blogspot.com/2008/05/coming-and-going.html' title='Coming and Going'/><author><name>PADS Service Dog Breeze</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09501780740496566082</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp0.blogger.com/_AwmZP9Ypqf4/SDxQD99PYdI/AAAAAAAAABc/xP405RFkN2M/s72-c/Breeze12.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8381662611380210839.post-3253103041363489599</id><published>2008-05-20T11:06:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-20T11:06:57.643-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Tour With A City Planner</title><content type='html'>So we took this city planner around town…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The idea was to show him first-hand some of the barriers faced by people with limited mobility. Since Tammy uses a wheelchair we figured it would help Mr. City Planner’s appreciation if he used one for the day, too.&lt;br /&gt;Tammy borrowed an old manual chair from PADS compound. I remember that thing from my Puppy-in-Training days; it still smells like my old kennel mates! I know they use it to train dogs like my colleague who pulls his person’s chair, but it has seen better days. (It makes noises that would scare me if I was riding in it without a harness.)&lt;br /&gt;The brakes worked, which was good because our city has some BIG hills.&lt;br /&gt;But one of the foot pedals fell off and needed a quick duct-tape fix-up; we were all undaunted so we did the tour anyway. Mr. City Planner thought he’d try one of those hills but wisely reconsidered after giving it a shot.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, curb ramps are something most people – two legged and four legged- don’t even notice but Tammy has to, and so did I.&lt;br /&gt;And there were lots of spots where the curb ramps were either non-existent or covered in gravel due to minor sidewalk repairs. Sidewalk repairs are not minor when you have to get a wheelchair across the street, and Mr. Planner soon found that out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then we went looking for some civic buildings, the kinds of places that need to be accessible to everybody, and guess what we found?  It’s lucky I was along to protect Tammy (&amp;amp; Mr. Planner) because there’s no way she’d have gotten into the police station if she’d needed to in an emergency!  They do have an elevator – but Tammy can’t operate it by herself, and neither could anybody else with limited hand or upper-body mobility.  Not to mention, I couldn’t fit in there with her – I’d have needed to go on her lap!  And I’m BIG!&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;So then we tried the train station – woof, that’s just crazy!  Even I know that you don’t go east to travel west unless you’re piloting a 747!  But I guess if you use a wheelchair in THIS town, you have to board at the only station with a working elevator – and you can only access the eastbound platform at that one.  So, when Tammy and I go home, (which is west) we get on the east-bound train, ride it across the river into another zone, get off, cross the platform, and board the west-bound train.  Only about 45 minutes wasted there…  Luckily, Tammy hasn’t been Tasered yet for only having a 2 zone ticket in a 3 zone area…!  Mr. Planner seemed to be pretty taken aback by the major pain-in-the-you-know-what our transit accessibility can be in his town. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We went into an old department store too, where in order to get upstairs we had to get someone to page the freight elevator and escort us up.  Of course, we know that there are some buildings that probably won’t ever be accessible to people who use wheelchairs – 100-year-old heritage buildings simply weren’t built to accommodate everybody, and that’s a fact of life.  But everybody should be able to get into the police station, the library, city hall, public transit, a washroom, city sidewalks… &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It’s happening slowly, and I believe that more tours like the one Mr. Planner took are a terrific way to get things moving in the right direction.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8381662611380210839-3253103041363489599?l=adventures-of-breeze.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://adventures-of-breeze.blogspot.com/feeds/3253103041363489599/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8381662611380210839&amp;postID=3253103041363489599' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8381662611380210839/posts/default/3253103041363489599'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8381662611380210839/posts/default/3253103041363489599'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://adventures-of-breeze.blogspot.com/2008/05/tour-with-city-planner.html' title='Tour With A City Planner'/><author><name>PADS Service Dog Breeze</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09501780740496566082</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8381662611380210839.post-2824125833006930175</id><published>2008-05-06T10:15:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-06T10:29:29.923-07:00</updated><title type='text'>RISE 'N SHINE</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_AwmZP9Ypqf4/SCCUPihYBmI/AAAAAAAAABU/2ECyAnDVs-M/s1600-h/IMG_4801.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5197316964671293026" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_AwmZP9Ypqf4/SCCUPihYBmI/AAAAAAAAABU/2ECyAnDVs-M/s320/IMG_4801.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Tammy’s usually awake by 7:00am, but her day typically begins a bit later. So she has a couple of hours where she needs me to distract her from her full bladder… I do that by nuzzling her face from the side of her bed. She doesn’t let me up on the bed with her – even though that supercilious cat gets to sleep there every night, ahem! – but I get as close as I can. (Sometimes a little too close, I guess, and she growls at me! But I don’t have any more fleas than that cat Rocket! And I know I smell good!) &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can see Tammy planning our day as she lays there waiting for the attendant to get her up: sometimes she talks to herself! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;“Are all of my arrangements in place? Transportation, meals, bathroom breaks, cell phone charged, water available…” &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;“Hey!” I growl, “What about the treat-bag!?”&lt;br /&gt;“Oh yeah, gotta get more doggie treats…” Her list seems endless sometimes, but the day’s accoutrements all need to be ready, and I make it my responsibility to see that she remembers everything. (Even the poop bags, though I don’t see the point.) &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Of course we don’t need a full two hours to get our day lined up; so Rocket helps with the distraction angle, too. He keeps her occupied, often by washing her face and hands, kitty style. That’s fine, but sometimes he also heads to the bathroom and flushes the toilet, which I bet really bugs Tammy. You’ve heard of Pavlov’s dog, no doubt: this is more like Tammy’s cat, but the same idea… Bell, food; flush, pee… &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I like the attendant, she gets Tammy up so we can be together and do our day. I always answer the door with a big “Good morning!” growly. And she says “Good morning”, to me, too, with pats and hugs. It’s pretty short and sweet, though, because we’ve got to get our day going. And of course, once I’m dressed, it’s all business: no more pats. I don’t even wag my tail…&lt;br /&gt;I watch while Tammy’s hoisted out of bed, and prepared for a shower. It’s part of my job to make sure everything’s done correctly! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Washing and dressing seems like an arduous process. I don’t know why she doesn’t just go with fur, like me, it’s a lot easier! Dressing Tammy is a unique experience each time; it seems her attendants still have difficulty understanding the concept of “left leg” and “right leg” when they’re helping her. I hope they get it soon, because sometimes she looks like a chicken being trussed for dinner. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Anyhow, after she’s dressed, she eats her breakfast, Rocket eats his breakfast, and I eat my breakfast. Then Tammy and I brush our teeth; I get chicken flavoured toothpaste for dogs – mmmmmm! She uses nasty minty stuff, and that cat, who’s thinks his hygiene is impeccable, never gets near a toothbrush! What’s the story there?!  So then it’s work at the computer for an hour or so, then I get dressed too, and we all rush out the door. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And so begins another exciting day, and I hear tomorrow we're supposed to take a city planner on a wheelchair tour downtown.   Sounds interesting, especially since he doesn't use a wheelchair for mobility...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8381662611380210839-2824125833006930175?l=adventures-of-breeze.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://adventures-of-breeze.blogspot.com/feeds/2824125833006930175/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8381662611380210839&amp;postID=2824125833006930175' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8381662611380210839/posts/default/2824125833006930175'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8381662611380210839/posts/default/2824125833006930175'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://adventures-of-breeze.blogspot.com/2008/05/rise-n-shine.html' title='RISE &apos;N SHINE'/><author><name>PADS Service Dog Breeze</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09501780740496566082</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp0.blogger.com/_AwmZP9Ypqf4/SCCUPihYBmI/AAAAAAAAABU/2ECyAnDVs-M/s72-c/IMG_4801.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8381662611380210839.post-3928840347628611561</id><published>2008-04-29T11:12:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-29T11:35:34.197-07:00</updated><title type='text'>How Much Is That Doggie In The Window?</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_AwmZP9Ypqf4/SBdp-ChYBkI/AAAAAAAAABE/N7A7rQCZOJI/s1600-h/G_PADS_194.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5194737209744819778" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_AwmZP9Ypqf4/SBdp-ChYBkI/AAAAAAAAABE/N7A7rQCZOJI/s320/G_PADS_194.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Tammy works downtown, and I go to work with her. We take the same route most every day.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;People stare at me on the Train, on the street, pretty much anywhere we go. Sometimes they try to pet me. I know they're admiring not only my good looks, but also the obvious dedication to my job. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;We have to walk a few blocks from the Train station to Tammy's office, and we usually meet a few other dogs on the way. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Some are working dogs, like the Beagle whose job it is to look both cute and hungry for his panhandler human. I think he's got a pretty good gig...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;And there's a guard dog lying on the floor at a high-end jewelry store: we've never actually met, but we've eyeballed each other enough to be acquainted. I feel sorry for him - he looks so sad and bored. I almost want to try a heist, just to give him something to do. I won't, though - I'm a PADS dog.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;There's another dog we meet: it lives in an upscale furniture store right by Tammy's office. I say 'lives', but it doesn't really. I think it's supposed to be 'ART'. Now, I know what you're thinking, what does a dog know about art? Well, I know cute from ugly, and this ain't cute!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;In the first place, it's got no eyes! It's got no fur; it's made of spun glass or something, and it's a lamp. It has an electrical cord for a leash, but I've never heard of a leash coming out of &lt;em&gt;there &lt;/em&gt;before!!! Ouch! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;It just stands there, and for $630.00 it will light up a corner for you. That's including the 15% discount...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I can light up the whole room for you for nothing; and if you still want the overhead fixture on, I can do that, too. (I might do it faster for a treat!) &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;And when I have my uniform off, you can get a free cuddle, too. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Look at that basket of puppies: which would you rather have, a nasty old overpriced lamp, or one of these cuties?!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8381662611380210839-3928840347628611561?l=adventures-of-breeze.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://adventures-of-breeze.blogspot.com/feeds/3928840347628611561/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8381662611380210839&amp;postID=3928840347628611561' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8381662611380210839/posts/default/3928840347628611561'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8381662611380210839/posts/default/3928840347628611561'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://adventures-of-breeze.blogspot.com/2008/04/how-much-is-that-doggie-in-window.html' title='How Much Is That Doggie In The Window?'/><author><name>PADS Service Dog Breeze</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09501780740496566082</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp1.blogger.com/_AwmZP9Ypqf4/SBdp-ChYBkI/AAAAAAAAABE/N7A7rQCZOJI/s72-c/G_PADS_194.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8381662611380210839.post-7555229631779446488</id><published>2008-04-29T10:50:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-29T11:11:48.589-07:00</updated><title type='text'>On The Job With Link</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_AwmZP9Ypqf4/SBdkRChYBjI/AAAAAAAAAA8/JDRfcoAW3XY/s1600-h/Link+-+Week+5.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5194730939092567602" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_AwmZP9Ypqf4/SBdkRChYBjI/AAAAAAAAAA8/JDRfcoAW3XY/s320/Link+-+Week+5.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Back in April, Tammy and I were asked to do another presentation - this one for PADS. But this wasn't just a standard look-at-what-the-wonder-dog-can-do show; this time I was introducing PADS Puppy-in-Training Link, from the IBM Litter. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;He is 4 months old, and so cute he could probably get away with anything, even stealing a chicken salad sandwich. Maybe I'll get a chance to show him some day...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;But he was pretty good. Even though he's more professional cutie than anything else, I could see the serious service dog waiting to grow into the blue and gold cape. There's no doubt in my mind that PADS Puppy-in-Training Link will be a fine assistance dog one day.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;He wasn't too polished or dignified in showing off his skills yet - after all he's just getting "down" mastered - but he sure had the right attitude! He settled right down while the humans finished talking about PADS. I was so proud of him, even though he's so cute the kids hardly paid any attention to me. (Ouch!)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;We talked to a whole bunch of kids, from kindergarten right on up, plus parents and teachers. They heard all about PADS - how we dogs are specially trained to help people who have disabilities live more independently. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Of course, since we're dogs - ahem, man's best friend! - we enrich their lives just by being who we are: loyal, friendly, cute, loving, helpful, cute, cuddly, mischievous, cute, furry, adorable - you get the picture...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Anyhow, back to the presentation: so, PADS needs Puppy Raisers, people who will help rear and socialize babes like PADS Puppy-in-Training Link. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Puppies need people; people need puppies. PADS needs YOU! Yes, you! Don't you have room in your home, in your heart, for somebody like PADS Puppy-in-Training Link? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Think about it!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8381662611380210839-7555229631779446488?l=adventures-of-breeze.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://adventures-of-breeze.blogspot.com/feeds/7555229631779446488/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8381662611380210839&amp;postID=7555229631779446488' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8381662611380210839/posts/default/7555229631779446488'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8381662611380210839/posts/default/7555229631779446488'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://adventures-of-breeze.blogspot.com/2008/04/on-job-with-link.html' title='On The Job With Link'/><author><name>PADS Service Dog Breeze</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09501780740496566082</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp1.blogger.com/_AwmZP9Ypqf4/SBdkRChYBjI/AAAAAAAAAA8/JDRfcoAW3XY/s72-c/Link+-+Week+5.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8381662611380210839.post-8748204093352721538</id><published>2008-04-24T11:31:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-24T11:36:00.444-07:00</updated><title type='text'>GIRL GUIDES PRESENTATION: A NEW YEAR'S STORY</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_AwmZP9Ypqf4/SBDSwChYBiI/AAAAAAAAAA0/yzbvT7DLsc8/s1600-h/Breeze6.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5192882093110593058" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_AwmZP9Ypqf4/SBDSwChYBiI/AAAAAAAAAA0/yzbvT7DLsc8/s320/Breeze6.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; In January, Tammy and I met with the Girl Guides at an Elementary School where the Guides and their leaders invited us to talk about disability issues.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I really enjoy doing these kinds of educational presentations, as they give me an opportunity to show off some of my skills as a PADS Assistance Dog and also give our audience a glimpse of how a person with a disability lives. I am certainly the most interesting example of Tammy’s adaptive equipment!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tammy starts by introducing herself, her human personal assistant – and me – I sit pretty until it’s my time to shine - and then she shares some of her experiences about what it is like to live with a disability. I like it when she tells the funny stories. She also talks to the kids about how important it is to see the person with a disability as a PERSON first and to be aware first of common humanity, and the things shared by people everywhere. She talks about differences too, but shows disability as yet another aspect of diversity.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then she educates the children about cerebral palsy, and the some of the challenges it can bring. She demonstrates this by showing how she uses her adapted cup holder and camera tripod to enjoy her favorite activities of drinking a cup of hot chocolate at Starbucks and photography. Then it’s my time to shine. I demonstrate how I am used as an adaptive tool to assist Tammy retrieve an item from the floor and help her take off her sweater. The kids are always so amazed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After this demonstration, Tammy gives the audience the opportunity to experience what it might be like to live with a disability through empathy building exercises. She gives the children oven mitts to wear which restricts their ability to use their hands and fingers and then has them do an activity that requires finger dexterity such as writing, buttoning up their jacket, or operating their ipod within a time limit. After this activity, Tammy asks questions about the task and whether they found it easy or hard. She also generates discussion around other ways in which we adapt and perform activities in our daily lives and in what ways we can support people with disabilities at school and in the community.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Finally Tammy gives the children an opportunity to ask questions about the presentation. The kids want to know about me and the PADS program as well as more questions about Tammy and her experiences living with cp. It is always so much fun!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8381662611380210839-8748204093352721538?l=adventures-of-breeze.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://adventures-of-breeze.blogspot.com/feeds/8748204093352721538/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8381662611380210839&amp;postID=8748204093352721538' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8381662611380210839/posts/default/8748204093352721538'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8381662611380210839/posts/default/8748204093352721538'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://adventures-of-breeze.blogspot.com/2008/04/girl-guides-presentation-new-years.html' title='GIRL GUIDES PRESENTATION: A NEW YEAR&apos;S STORY'/><author><name>PADS Service Dog Breeze</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09501780740496566082</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp2.blogger.com/_AwmZP9Ypqf4/SBDSwChYBiI/AAAAAAAAAA0/yzbvT7DLsc8/s72-c/Breeze6.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8381662611380210839.post-7958766469410440823</id><published>2008-04-24T11:03:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-24T11:23:59.321-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A Letter from an Admirer</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_AwmZP9Ypqf4/SBDPLChYBhI/AAAAAAAAAAs/qPiV39tM-iA/s1600-h/IMG_4748.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5192878158920549906" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_AwmZP9Ypqf4/SBDPLChYBhI/AAAAAAAAAAs/qPiV39tM-iA/s320/IMG_4748.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Dear Pads Service Dog Breeze,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thanks so much for taking the time to write those informative and inspiring articles. Your human sounds like quite a woman, but I may be somewhat prejudiced in that regard as she happens to be my niece. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I met you just before Christmas at your Handler's wild and crazy Family holiday residence - you know, the one where the lady of the house isn’t particularly crazy about dogs. Mind you, she does have a very warm and loving heart, and I suspect&lt;br /&gt;that you’ve managed to wriggle yourself into that heart a wee bit because,&lt;br /&gt;well......you are awfully darn cute and cuddly. Hopefully your Handler will&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;let me huggle and snuggle you one of these days when you’re not on duty. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the meantime, keep up the great job, and thanks for keeping that niece of&lt;br /&gt;mine on her toes [so to speak]. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span&gt;Our loving little pooch, Spuddy, sends his best regards. It’s always been his&lt;br /&gt;dream to be a working/helping dog, but alas, I fear he’s not cut out for that&lt;br /&gt;sort of thing as he simply will not cease and desist from madly chasing the&lt;br /&gt;deer and squirrels off of our and neighbours properties at every opportunity.&lt;br /&gt;At these times he becomes completely oblivious to any and all commands or&lt;br /&gt;requests made by his people. Oh well, we love him to pieces anyway.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lotsa love to the Handler,&lt;br /&gt;Your step-auntie &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8381662611380210839-7958766469410440823?l=adventures-of-breeze.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://adventures-of-breeze.blogspot.com/feeds/7958766469410440823/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8381662611380210839&amp;postID=7958766469410440823' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8381662611380210839/posts/default/7958766469410440823'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8381662611380210839/posts/default/7958766469410440823'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://adventures-of-breeze.blogspot.com/2008/04/letter-from-admirer.html' title='A Letter from an Admirer'/><author><name>PADS Service Dog Breeze</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09501780740496566082</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp2.blogger.com/_AwmZP9Ypqf4/SBDPLChYBhI/AAAAAAAAAAs/qPiV39tM-iA/s72-c/IMG_4748.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8381662611380210839.post-2034871261688846906</id><published>2008-04-24T10:46:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-24T10:53:31.986-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Sniffin' for Santa - More Holiday Stories 2007</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_AwmZP9Ypqf4/SBDI8ihYBgI/AAAAAAAAAAk/u0Xh8snnTOY/s1600-h/Breizel+the+Blue+Reindeer.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5192871312742680066" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_AwmZP9Ypqf4/SBDI8ihYBgI/AAAAAAAAAAk/u0Xh8snnTOY/s320/Breizel+the+Blue+Reindeer.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;SNIFFIN’ FOR SANTA&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was an early start for us that Sunday morning in November. The day dawned clear and cold, perfect weather for the Santa Clause Parade through Downtown.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I knew something was up when Tammy dressed me in a goofy red and green cape festooned with jingle bells, over my usual PADS working vest. My nerves jangled with every jingling step we took to the train station. The trains were crammed to overflowing with humans of every description, which made it much more difficult to keep my mind on my work.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So many men! So many children! So many people noticing how adorable I was in my Christmas finery! It was hard to focus, but I did my best. I was, after all, not only representing PADS in the parade, but also setting an example for all the PADS freshman puppies who were also in attendance…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was a c-c-c-cold morning! I could tell Tammy was c-c-c-cold, too, because she was grumpy, and wouldn’t let me warm her up with a ‘my lap’ hug. We had to wait for a long time outdoors, along with many other parade entries – you can’t just start a mile-long march all at once, especially when some entries have four feet, some two, some are cars, some trucks, and others wheelchairs!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Parade was kick started from a City Park tour trolley by the Mayor. By the time our little entourage finally got going, the air was full of frenzied excitement – I could smell it everywhere, along with horse and dog poop, of course.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We followed bagpipes, high-school bands, some great big horses, lots of acrobats and floats, and some very serious police dogs. We marched past three hundred thousand people who were clearly excited and happy to see us – but I could sense they were anticipating something even bigger.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As we turned the final corner, I looked behind me and saw him, the Great Man Himself, in all his fat red and white glory – Santa Clause. And I was glad I’d been a good dog all year!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8381662611380210839-2034871261688846906?l=adventures-of-breeze.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://adventures-of-breeze.blogspot.com/feeds/2034871261688846906/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8381662611380210839&amp;postID=2034871261688846906' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8381662611380210839/posts/default/2034871261688846906'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8381662611380210839/posts/default/2034871261688846906'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://adventures-of-breeze.blogspot.com/2008/04/sniffin-for-santa-more-holiday-stories.html' title='Sniffin&apos; for Santa - More Holiday Stories 2007'/><author><name>PADS Service Dog Breeze</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09501780740496566082</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp0.blogger.com/_AwmZP9Ypqf4/SBDI8ihYBgI/AAAAAAAAAAk/u0Xh8snnTOY/s72-c/Breizel+the+Blue+Reindeer.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8381662611380210839.post-3236354437945614849</id><published>2008-04-20T16:34:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-20T16:35:11.513-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Poo Corner</title><content type='html'>It’s a fact of life that you-know-what happens.  When you gotta go, you gotta go.  Now, my manners have been subverted to meet human standards, which differ greatly from dog standards in bathroom matters.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just like our table manners standards are different…  You, for example, would never take advantage of the opportunity to eat an apparently unattended steak.  I, however, under the influence of many thousands of years of instinct, against only a year or two of training, might be forced to gobble up a rare, ownerless sirloin…  It’s survival!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Same with poo.  Not to be a potty mouth, but humans and dogs are clearly separate species when it comes to bathroom stuff.  We canine types communicate with pee and poo; it’s how we set our boundaries, say ‘hi’ to each other, differentiate between friends and enemies, and even let that handsome German Shepherd down the street know we’ve noticed him. (Hi, Rex!) &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tammy is crazy conscientious about cleaning up after me, but since she has limited hand function, she does the poo corner clean-up once or twice a week.  She brings a BIG bag, and does it all at once!  (She keeps threatening to make me do the poo pick-up, but luckily I don’t have opposable thumbs) &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tammy makes sure she cleans up after me regularly, and of course poo corner is an isolated area where nobody’s kids can step in doggie-doo, but some people aren’t the least bit worried about what their canine friends leave behind – I’ve smelled some really old news in the grass&lt;br /&gt;  Gotta go now!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8381662611380210839-3236354437945614849?l=adventures-of-breeze.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://adventures-of-breeze.blogspot.com/feeds/3236354437945614849/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8381662611380210839&amp;postID=3236354437945614849' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8381662611380210839/posts/default/3236354437945614849'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8381662611380210839/posts/default/3236354437945614849'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://adventures-of-breeze.blogspot.com/2008/04/poo-corner.html' title='Poo Corner'/><author><name>PADS Service Dog Breeze</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09501780740496566082</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8381662611380210839.post-4766322455084765481</id><published>2008-04-14T10:15:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-14T10:41:27.205-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Christmas Holidays 2007</title><content type='html'>April 15, 2008&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This past Christmas was the first time I spent with Tammy's extended family - whoooeeee!  Let me just say that no two humans are exactly alike...  but human kids are not unlike puppies - slobbery, stinky, and perpetually chewing on something! &lt;br /&gt;Because there were always people around, I spent a lot of time off from my usual routine.  Tammy's dad clearly enjoyed my company, and so did her siblings and nieces and nephews.  I love kids - and they love me, too! &lt;br /&gt;What I liked most was all the extra attention I got during our walks to the local park with Tammy and her family.  Back at home everybody knows me, and knows what's expected of me, but here - well, let's just say I got away with a couple of what I like to call 'table-scrap moments'.  Tammy thinks she caught me every time, but strictly between us, I manage to nab a perk or two along the way, if you know what I mean!&lt;br /&gt;I liked Tammy's dad as much as he liked me, so I said 'yes' when he asked if he could share his impressions of our meeting. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Some Dogs Are...&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Some dogs look like grouches with attitude, some look merely odd, some fit in oven mitts, and some only in the back of pick-up trucks. But say “Golden Retriever” and everybody thinks of long silken hair and feathered legs, kindness, intelligence, attentiveness, loyalty, an easy lope and the best nose in the business, and envies the owner.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Some time ago our daughter Tammy applied to have a PADS dog. We didn’t think she had much of a chance. After all, cerebral palsy didn’t keep her from independence, a busy life of advocacy and referral services, committee work and speaking engagements, so what could a dog do for her? Besides, she had a black male cat who ruled her apartment with tooth and claw.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But the unlikely happened. She was elected to try it out, and word came back that she was to be trained with and by – wait for it – a Golden Retriever. As part of the training all Tammy’s family members received stern warnings. This is a working dog, a dog in uniform, a highly and expensively trained animal. Do not, repeat, do not meet the kind gaze of this dog with kindness in return. Do not simper over her in uniform. Do not surreptitiously let fingers slide over silken head or encourage black wet nose to snuffle palm of hand. And never, repeat never act on the knowledge that you are the original dog whisperer and so can interpret a slightly lifted eyebrow from a head on front paws as an invitation to come and cuddle.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You can’t say that we weren’t properly warned. It didn’t make any difference, though. One look at this gorgeous young animal with impeccable manners and we all felt the need to make clear to her our admiration. Tammy was adamant, however. “Breeze, heel,” and the poor dog’s ears drooped as she took her place.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, suffice it to say that we managed to sneak a caress or two. And of course the reality of a PADS dog isn’t all silk and gold. Excrement happens, as do frustrations with lapses in training, with people’s lack of understanding on the street, with other dogs that can’t decipher PADS, with the daily routines as time consuming as a child’s. But Service Dog Breeze has also added a new dimension to her mistress’s life, whether it’s yanking off a coat sleeve or opening a door, or loping along beside the wheelchair in her airy way, or just waiting patiently, head on Tammy’s shoe, for the next assignment.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So thank you to the family that made the young Puppy-In-Training Breeze feel secure and valued and then had to give her up, and thank you to the trainers who can think dog thoughts. Thank you to the citizens of this great country who agree together that providing such a service is the right thing to do. And thank you, I guess, to the cat. Even he couldn’t resist being nice to a Golden Retriever.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8381662611380210839-4766322455084765481?l=adventures-of-breeze.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://adventures-of-breeze.blogspot.com/feeds/4766322455084765481/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8381662611380210839&amp;postID=4766322455084765481' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8381662611380210839/posts/default/4766322455084765481'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8381662611380210839/posts/default/4766322455084765481'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://adventures-of-breeze.blogspot.com/2008/04/christmas-holidays-2007.html' title='Christmas Holidays 2007'/><author><name>PADS Service Dog Breeze</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09501780740496566082</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8381662611380210839.post-671299883582241652</id><published>2008-04-14T10:01:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-14T10:14:53.010-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Life With Service Dog 'Breeze'</title><content type='html'>April 14, 2008:      From Tammy's Point of View&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the spring of 2007 PADS Service Dog Breeze blew into my life like a hurricane. I should have known something big was up when the voice over the phone asked whether I was sitting down…For those of you who don’t know, I’m a quad – I’m always sitting down! The big news was that I had been matched up with a PADS (Pacific Assistance Dogs) dog. Her name is “Breeze”, and she’s a Golden Retriever.   I had been on the PADS wait list for about 6 months; and I'd put a lot of thought into getting a helper dog for 3 or 4 years prior to applying.  I wanted extra help for those times when nobody was around - after my staff had gone for the night.  PADS Service Dog Breeze and I were introduced shortly thereafter, and hit if off right away. After our first meeting I had visions of Lassie pulling me out of the well. I was very excited by the prospect of greater independence, though perhaps some of my care staff feared for their jobs…  A month later I was attending the two week training session.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The PADS basic training session - which I have dubbed “Doggie Boot Camp”, was an intense, even exhausting process. I had to learn how to be boss of a dog – which is different from being the boss of people, and worlds away from being boss of a cat. In the first place, none of my care staff will work for kibbles, and they won’t wag their tails either, no matter how enthusiastically I praise them. On the other hand, I don’t have to bribe them with treats to motivate them.  As for my cat Rocket: well, let’s be real – nobody bosses a cat. He still runs the house.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Being the senior partner in a working dog team takes a huge commitment, all the consistency I can muster, patience, and great self discipline. Not only do I need to reinforce her basic training daily, I constantly have to establish that she’s NOT a pet – she’s a working dog. I was warned too by the PADS instructors that people who had in the past avoided eye contact with me would find any excuse to make conversation, now that PADS Service Dog Breeze was along. It’s true – she is a real ice breaker, even though every encounter with the public has come to include the words”No, you can’t pet her – she’s working”.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;PADS Service Dog Breeze and I are still learning to work together, but already she can hand me the phone, retrieve dropped items off the floor, including the TV remote, papers, pens, and change. She can open all the doors in my apartment including the fridge. Maybe one day she will be able to get me a beer! She can turn lights off and on, as well as push buttons to activate doors and elevators. She can help me take my jacket off by tugging at the sleeves, and the other day she handed my bank card to the cashier at my local pet store.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;PADS Service Dog Breeze has helped me tremendously in the short time we have been working together, and I expect she’ll become even more useful as time goes on.  My favorite times with her however, are in the evening when her assistance dog apron is off and she is my doggie companion. She seeks my attention with adoring eyes, and sticks to my side as though she were Velcroed.  She loves to rest her chin on my foot as I sit and watch TV before settling for the night.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The things that make PADS Service Dog Breeze a great assistance dog are the same things that make her a good dog – she is loyal, obedient, and eager to please. I look forward to leading an even more active, independent, and happy life with her in the future!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For more information on the Pacific Assistance Dogs Society, and its programs, check out the website at &lt;a href="http://www.pads.ca/"&gt;www.pads.ca&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8381662611380210839-671299883582241652?l=adventures-of-breeze.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://adventures-of-breeze.blogspot.com/feeds/671299883582241652/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8381662611380210839&amp;postID=671299883582241652' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8381662611380210839/posts/default/671299883582241652'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8381662611380210839/posts/default/671299883582241652'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://adventures-of-breeze.blogspot.com/2008/04/life-with-service-dog-breeze.html' title='Life With Service Dog &apos;Breeze&apos;'/><author><name>PADS Service Dog Breeze</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09501780740496566082</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8381662611380210839.post-8277714100325790849</id><published>2008-04-14T09:32:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-14T10:00:14.568-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Welcome to The Adventures of PADS Service Dog 'Breeze'</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_AwmZP9Ypqf4/SAONTpfYYdI/AAAAAAAAAAM/QCbs2U7WWdQ/s1600-h/Breeze4.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5189146564355449298" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_AwmZP9Ypqf4/SAONTpfYYdI/AAAAAAAAAAM/QCbs2U7WWdQ/s320/Breeze4.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;April 7, 2008&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;This is where PADS (Pacific Assistance Dogs Society) Service Dog Breeze will share some of her experiences, observations, and insights (in-smells?) What does the human race look like from the perspective of a working dog? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Breeze works with Tammy, a community advocate who is also quadriplegic, as she navigates through or around some of life's everyday obstacles...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Join us weekly to find out how the world looks through the eyes of a real modern working girl: she's not just a somewhat vain blonde and beautiful golden retriever, she's also dedicated, altruistic, (though she can be had for a steak...!) a gifted communicator, and thoroughly professional. (Except, as we have noted, in the presence of steak...) &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Breeze welcomes your comments here or at her personal email address, &lt;a href="mailto:breeze@pads.ca"&gt;breeze@pads.ca&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8381662611380210839-8277714100325790849?l=adventures-of-breeze.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://adventures-of-breeze.blogspot.com/feeds/8277714100325790849/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8381662611380210839&amp;postID=8277714100325790849' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8381662611380210839/posts/default/8277714100325790849'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8381662611380210839/posts/default/8277714100325790849'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://adventures-of-breeze.blogspot.com/2008/04/welcome-to-adventures-of-pads-service.html' title='Welcome to The Adventures of PADS Service Dog &apos;Breeze&apos;'/><author><name>PADS Service Dog Breeze</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09501780740496566082</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp3.blogger.com/_AwmZP9Ypqf4/SAONTpfYYdI/AAAAAAAAAAM/QCbs2U7WWdQ/s72-c/Breeze4.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry></feed>
