Today is primary day in California but unlike many other states, it’s pretty low-key. Mitt Romney has already clinched the republican party nomination, Obama is the sole democrat on the ballot, and California is mostly a forgone conclusion anyway. We’re heavily blue out here. There are also some open seats for congressional seats. There has been a lot of redistricting, and so we had to choose who we want to run in the fall. There are also some ballot initiatives, though thankfully not as many as usual. I’m not a big fan of ballot initiatives, especially if they involve allotting a certain amount of money to a certain cause. I’m all for causes, but when people vote to assign money they usually forget that the money needs to come from somewhere else. It’s very myopic. I usually just vote no.
We vote at the elementary school that’s here in the ‘hood. For years we’ve gone at lunchtime. This way we avoid any crowds. Usually there are a few people there; sometimes there are a few more. In 2008, when Obama was elected, it was fairly packed. There was actually a line. Both Kevin and I were thrilled to see that and to wait. I’ve never missed an election, even the smaller ones. I consider it my job as an informed member of the electorate. Besides, I feel more comfortable complaining when I know I had a say.

Today was no different. At about 12:15, we laced up our walking shoes and trucked on down to Red Oak Elementary. School was still in session. There were kids on the playground, at recess, kicking the soccer ball, running around, playing. We walked up the driveway and followed the flags to the auditorium. There were two tables, one labeled A – K, the other L – Z. We made our way to table two, signed in, got our ballots, each went to one of the little voting stands, drew lines between the arrows of the people we were choosing and then put the ballot through the electronic counter. The whole thing took less than 10 minutes.
Outside the auditorium, there were also quite a few kids sitting at the long tables often found on schoolyards and in cafeterias. They’re like elongated picnic tables. There was much chatter and the wonderfully melodic sound of children’s laughter. We glanced back and sitting on the ground behind a little girl at one of the tables, was a yellow Labrador retriever service dog. He was sitting perfectly still, wearing his red service dog vest. He turned his head to look at us. He yawned. Other kids ran by him, there was a great deal of commotion as there often is at an elementary school. He never moved from his post.
I have long been and suspect I’ll always remain absolutely awed by the canine species. So trusting and true, so loving and in the best circumstances, so loved. I am also amazed by service dogs. Service dogs are trained extensively to help those with various disabilities. Since 1929, when the Seeing Eye Guide Dog organization was established, service dogs have walked beside us. By definition, a service dog has been trained to perform tasks that mitigate the disability of the dog's owner. Since each person experiences a disability differently and therefore has different needs for assistance, each dog is somewhat custom-trained for the individual it will be helping. A dog trained to assist a person in a wheelchair might be taught to pick up dropped items, open and close doors, and turn on and off lights. A dog trained to assist a person who can’t see well might be taught to avoid obstacles at the level of a person's eyes.

There are currently about 20,000 people in the country who use service dogs to help them to see, hear, be more mobile and be more engaged. There are service dogs that help detect seizures and low blood sugar levels, and Ssig dogs, or social signal dogs to help people challenged by autism. Psychiatric service dogs help people with Post Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD), depression, bi-polar disorder, panic attacks and more.
Yesterday, on MSNBC.com, my browser home page, there was a story about soldiers who suffer from disorders like PTSD getting service dogs, or not getting them even when they’re desperately needed. Army Specialist David Bandrowsky, profiled in the article, is lucky enough to have a service dog named Benny. They’ve been together since last November and Bandrowsky feels unsafe if the dog is not at his side. However, according to an Army policy instituted in January, limiting how soldiers can get service dogs, the program is now at great risk, as is Benny’s continued service to his master.
That’s where organizations like Dog Bless You can make a real difference. This group recently started a cause they’re calling Operation Freedom, Lucky’s Army. Lucky is the golden retriever who evidently runs the Facebook page. Their goal is to celebrate the spirit of 76 by donating 76 service dogs to war vets by the 4th of July. For every 1000 likes they get on their page, they donate one dog. As of today, they were up to 24 dogs.
Lucky
Dog bless them, and dog bless all service dogs. They’re doing what dogs do best. Providing comfort, companionship, their eyes and ears; their instinct.
Perhaps the writer Gene Hill put it best when he wrote this:
“He is my other eyes that can see above the clouds; my other ears that hear above the winds. He is the part of me that can reach out into the sea. He has told me a thousand times over that I am his reason for being; by the way he rests against my leg; by the way he thumps his tail at my smallest smile; by the way he shows his hurt when I leave without taking him. (I think it makes him sick with worry when he is not along to care for me.) When I am wrong, he is delighted to forgive. When I am angry, he clowns to make me smile. When I am happy, he is joy unbounded. When I am a fool, he ignores it. When I succeed, he brags. Without him, I am only another man. With him, I am all-powerful. He is loyalty itself. He has taught me the meaning of devotion. With him, I know a secret comfort and a private peace. He has brought me understanding where before I was ignorant. His head on my knee can heal my human hurts. His presence by my side is protection against my fears of dark and unknown things. He has promised to wait for me… whenever… wherever – in case I need him. And I expect I will – as I always have. He is just my dog.”
A service dog in Italy, 1909
Just living it out loud.