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  1.  (10746.1)
    I've never much been one for hope. It's something I've usually found too fragile to hold on too, too easily dashed by the recklessness of others (well-meaning or not). It's easier to be wary, to hold onto the more pragmatic approach to things which is: Don't get too caught up in your own ideas, because anything you care about can just as easily go away-- or perhaps worse- hurt you.

    But it seems like this service dog thing might be real; and the hole in my heart that was made when my boy Hunter died, might find someone new to settle down into that patch of my life, so I won't be so alone, and at the mercy of the whims of my mind's illness, or the side-effects of my medication (which hunter did not know how to do. He was a good dog, but a couch potato).

    I don't think it's real hope. Not the butterflies-and-rainbows type; but something borne out of need. I have to believe that someday this dog will exist and will be waiting for me, because the alternate is an unthinkable horror;-decreased skills in dealing with the world and increased dependence on increasingly dangerous medications.

    I'm nowhere near my goal; but I'm closer to it than when I started; and have found the internet has been supportive and helpful, and understanding whereas my own family has had trouble understanding the concept of a service dog for something other than mobility and a pet (But they are slowly getting around that).
  2.  (10746.2)
    Almost enough money to put down on a puppy *fingers crossed*.