Justice for Dunkin' Dog

Miss you

2010-11-19T12:39:00.001-08:00

I miss you Dunkin'. I miss the unconditional love. I miss the elation at watching you understand this world full and run mostly by humans. You were one of us. What gets me is that you should be here. They took you. They extinguished your life and I had to watch it all happen.

Grad school has a way of distracting me from the details for moments at a time. Regardless, I sit in my office and cry for you, and remembering the trauma and what they did to me, to my life, my future and the present.

I watched a great show Dogs Decoded on Nova http://www.pbs.org/wgbh/nova/nature/dogs-decoded.html

Key take aways:
* Owning a dog extends your life
* Dog owner's chemical reaction is the same as a breast feeding mother to her newborn
* Dogs also experience the chemical connection with the owner
* Dog owners are less likely to have a heart attack

I told them on that day, minutes after you were taken. I told them "you killed me, you don't know what you've done, you killed ME!"

I've been a zombie since.

...A zombie with dry salt paths on my clothes and cheeks. I do my best to honor you and I know you want me to not cry. I am doing my best. I graduate in weeks with a GPA better than undergrad. 3.4... this was our time to move back home and take care of ourselves, by myself, relaying solely on myself. And now? Now I have to figure out the new plan and there are several. They are not as bright as they would be were you still here, lil daddy Dunkin'.

Rosamaria on Alex Jones YouTube site

2010-07-21T13:04:00.000-07:00

Click here to listen to me on Alex's show yesterday. Please forward this link and let's show the powers that be that WE ARE NOT GOING TO ACCEPT THIS IN HUMANE TREATMENT OF DISABLED AMERICANS, AMERICANS, PETS, SERVICE ANIMALS on our tax funded roads.

Please send this link to your loved ones, your co-works and family as it is the TRUTH about the ACTIONS of which police officials choose to engage.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=a4M2luaVbtQ

How Dunkin' Died

2010-07-20T12:05:00.000-07:00

Dunkin was chased to his death by the DPS. Department of Public SAFETY.

All they gave me was his BROKEN and TORN COLLAR. Just thinking about it... it just brings it all back. He was destroyed instantly.

The article I wrote on the left hand side tells all the grim details. SCROLL DOWN to see PHOTOS of my bruising and ... our last video on Earth.

The tears, after a year... they just flow. He was precious. I honor him daily living a life that informs all of JUSTICE and TRUTH.

Thank you all. Again, please join my "causes page" at http://www.facebook.com/JusticeForDunkin

How YOU can make a difference

2010-07-20T11:46:00.000-07:00

Thank you all for the support. I have been struggling... as you see from my posts. I mostly suffer in silence regarding my most traumatic loss. Even the loss of certain motor skills, and being diagnosed with MS pale in comparison to losing my 8 year old unconditional love which Dunkin' granted me.

Please JOIN THE CAUSE at: www.facebook.com/justicefordunkin

Also, WATCH our last video together. LOOK at the photos I was CLEVER enough to take with time stamps on them, as I KNEW the department of public safety would bury the issue.

READ the left hand column which explains what happened.

I have since attained a lawyer and I forsee fees.

I am a graduate student at NYU and work full time trying to make ends meet while living in NYC.

All updates will be posted on Face Book and my personal notes are here.

IT is ON

2010-07-20T11:31:00.000-07:00

Alex Jones will put Justice For Dunkin' links on his site, viewed by MILLIONS of humans world wide.

I am grateful I am closer to Justice and to sharing my experience with self healing when negative forces strip you of your humanity.

www.facebook.com/justicefordunkin Visit, Add, Forward to friends, for Dunkin', for your human rights and your beloved service animal rights.

LIVE on the air, GLOBALLY

2010-07-20T10:31:00.001-07:00

I am ABOUT to go LIVE on Alex Jones' LIVE radio broadcast. LISTEN NOW. I will be speaking about my encounter with a POLICE STATE which violated my civil liberties on
July 4th 2009 in the state of Arizona. After Steve Watson is done, it will be my turn. Hope you can join me.

http://www.infowars.com/listen.html

Thoughts are faster than light

2010-04-26T06:22:00.000-07:00

Last night, I cried hard. I sat on my bed and I tried to not let it erupt, and like the volcanoes of ages, I exploded my sorrow onto my cheeks and chin, my new blue sheets, my frown burrowing in itself. Dunkin' is alive in my mind, his face, his ki8ses, his care and presence. Even now, typing this, my eyes sting, they water, they release this longing.

Some people do not know longing. They cannot concieve what this is. I feel those humans are truly lucky. Perhaps they cannot love like most human do, but, they also will never know what this pain feels like.

Is it worth the cost?

The opportunity to have felt Dunkin's love is worth everything to me only because I know what it meant to me. If I had a choice to not understand love and hence never experience pain, I guess I would be super human, or a realized buddhist.

I think it's all a bunch of good philosphizing. My truth are my tears, my buzzing left body, my salty trails.

I have pushed on, and I have my art in Manhattan being exhibited as we speak. Yes, there is a pet in the painting. No, it is not Dunkin. Not this time. Out of 300 artists who were chose, only 7 were chosed to be exhibited in a NoHo Starbucks. Mine is one of the 7.

Starbucks on Boradway at Bond. Bond... my favorited street in Manhattan. Dunkin' and I used to walk it all the time, just to see the art store. He once shopped on his own there. Oh, my little angel, I would have brought you to the starbucks for a pic under my painting, Dunkin. I would have brought you to the reception as well. I would have... if you were here.

sorrow

2010-04-05T09:22:00.000-07:00

My grandmother recently passed. I'm okay with it. She lived a long life. Yes, it was sudden and she was very healthy and I am okay with it. I have cried some.

Dunkin', on the other hand... I cry still.

Death, when it comes by the hands of human being, so to speak... that death, I do not understand. That death is cruel and senseless. That is injustice. We are here to live a just life, a peaceful life on this planet, at much as we can anyway.

My peace was shaken and most would have been crushed. I am not most. Crushed? Pulverized, more the like. Luckily I am a creator. I make art from sand, from color, from thought. Dunkin'... you are my finest work yet and I honor your memory by being peaceful, aware, helpful and focused on myself, my career, and what I can offer the world that you taught me, my zen puppy.

My eyes tear always. It is my signature after your thought enters my mind. My longing for you shows in my tear and in my smile. I love you Dunkin' dog. We saw Frankie yesterday and she looks great. She has a new brother names Polo and you would have loved him. He looks like a large Lucas. The weather was sunning weather for you this easter weekend. I thought of you at the dog run, how you loved laying in the sun. Faye will be here in May and I am sure she will remember walking you all over the city and speaking to you in only Dutch. Leker Eten? lol... I love you, Dunkin'.

March

2010-03-02T08:56:00.000-08:00

My left arm and hand buzzes. The irght hand and fingers get cold and warm with no notice. I sometimes cannot even find the time to react to the changes in my skin temperature as it happens so quickly. Sometimes is stays for a few minutes, other times, seconds, and other times, hours. I have no fear of these symptoms, I just am mindful of them.

My skin hurts on my hands. A patch of skin on my right thigh was burning last night, and all evening. It's annoying wearing pants, or anything that touches that part of my leg but what can you do? I just ignore it as much as possible.

I still cry for Dunkin. I still can't believe this is my reality. I still cannot stop feeling scared and traumatized by those inhumane men that day. I find it hard to understand time still..or maybe, I finally understand it. It feels like 5 minutes ago that Dunkin was alive, it feels like I just had his large paws in my hands or on my shoulders. 5 minutes ago he was here, 5 minutes ago people could have used cognitive thinking skills, 5 minutes ago Dunkin could have been safely removed from a vehicle as he was a service animal. 5 minutes... so far away. Never to return.

2010 still gray

2010-01-08T12:18:00.001-08:00

Nice peaceful new year for me. Spent quietly, been with myself for weeks, reflecting. I realize what I need and want, what I hope to accomplish on earth etc. I truly want people to respect animals from the early stages of their development. This is very important to me. This is more important to me ultimately than my own personal happiness in the traditional sense.

My left hand and arm are still buzzing constantly. When I dance especially. When I punch, When I move my head pretty much...as I am typing, when I look at the keyboard... BUZZZZZZ all over my left arm and hand and my body as well.

I cried a few hours ago. Just had this thought about my boy. Dunk's face. His presence. It was real. I had it. He was my life. He was here. He brought me unconditional love. I lived off of his love for years, all of my family and friends know what he means to me. I realize, as months pass and my longing for him remains unfettered, that the pain of a great loss never goes away...you just learn to live with it. Kind of like Multiple Sclerosis and this buzzing which is due to the emotional stress of having to watch soulless humans kill my service animal before my eyes while I am handcuffed in the middle of the damn desert in a heat box surrounded by GLASS no less with no air to breath. Yeah, it's something like that.

Ouch.

I feel likeI feel like I'm living multiple lives and none are my own.

2009-12-01T07:47:00.001-08:00

Now I am in this body that buzzes and tingles and snaps in shock when I move my head. When you hit your elbow and it makes that annoying and painful sting in the funny bone, it goes away eventually. This is what my whole body feels like, especially my left side of my body. If I move my head at a normal rate, my body feels like it was just zapped with electricity from a foreign body and yet, it is all inside of my own body. My hand gets the most of that shock. Dunkin' used to lick it well, and the love involved healed me.

Normally I snap out of it and get happy. Missing Dunkin' is not happiness. I did a lot of missing him and crying this week. I just want my balance back. Physically, I want to walk normally and not feel like I'm falling to the right, emotionally, I just want my heart and soul to heal from the shock that is still inside of me.

Coat me

2009-11-25T07:51:00.000-08:00

I am Living in the Present State of Numbness.

Dunkin' Tears

2009-11-23T11:53:00.001-08:00

Thanksgiving is around the corner and Dunkin' would always be the 1st to eat. I always made him his plate of thanksgiving food, with stuffing, gravy and all the trimmings. How he would eat until he was the size of the bird itself, then he would sleep the rest of the day. He deserved my love for many years. I deserved his. I am thankful every moment I breath that the Dunk was in my life and that he will always be part of me.

I also thank karma for in knowing that karma exists, I also know the people who extinguished Dunkin's light are already paying for their deeds. It is not even in my hands. I can only control my state and I do the best I can. I miss you dear boy. Momma misses you at night, and I know you know it. How I miss those long dog legs and that sound you made in gratitude of hugs and smiles. Wish I had you now to help out with my left hand again. It's not looking too happy and it's feeling a bit blue, tingly, and numb sometimes. I fight it, Dunkin'. I do what I know how to and it's just a lot more difficult without you near.

Too Many Tears Have Had To Fall

2009-11-02T08:34:00.000-08:00

Phoenix's song "If I Ever Feel Better" pretty much sums me up.

I'm at the point of thinking... IF I ever feel better. I do sometimes. Sometimes.

My hands are lovely, they brush my hair and my teeth, they can thread a needle, they elegantly lift items and wash dishes, they type and allow me to express myself. My hands are milky peach and scarred in my right ring finger, there is a ring on my left middle finger, I adorn my wrist with a Frida Kalho bracelet and I have other scars from art projects, one when I was in the 4th grade carving a stamp, another when I was doing a mural in Arizona, both are on my thumbs. My veins show through my translucent skin and there is some metal inside one of my fingers to it would mend correctly at one point. And now, these lovely hands are weak.

All I can do is rub them, flex them, message them and start feeling better. I wish I could dip them in purple paint and watch it drip down to my elbows. My hands want to be playdough, a bright blue or lively green. They want to be lace, my petite hands, covered in lace and sipping on tea in the middle of Deadwood, South Dakota. My hands want to feel the buttery softness of a child's skin, the warmth of a man's elegant hand on mine, the silky trusses of my hair, the bark of a tree. I am thankful for my hands and thankful that Dunkin' used to know when I needed them licked. Dunkin' used to know. Dunkin' would lick the forhand, exactly where it was weak, or numb. He brought me such hope. They killed my hope in Arizona. No wonder my hands are weak. No wonder my spirit is wounded. No wonder I hope to feel better and be reminded to so spend some good time with you.

There are things in my life I can't control, I feel the chaos around me, a thing I dont try to deny, I better learn to accept that, there's a part of my life that will go away.- Phoenix

Happy Birthday, Dunkin'

2009-10-23T10:24:00.000-07:00

Today would be your 8th birthday, love. How we celebrated for 7 years and had so many parties and cherished times. I remember your face glow with the candle on a cupcake in front of your brown face. I'm yearning for your love again, your innocence and protection. You were so happy with me. You literally smiled at times, so many times. I wish I would have powers to bring you back, I would use them. What's the point in even saying that, Dunkin'. Oh Dunkin', my Dunkin' dog. Some people don't get it, and some others really do. Either way, you are 8 now, somewhere, in my world, I will sing for you today. Happy birthday to you dear Dunkin'. My little man, little lovely life that touched me with love just at the sight of you. My organs want to jump out of my body sometimes in such despair. My stomach, the heart organ, they hurt when I walk around or sit and think about how we were torn apart. The tears that fall heavily onto my lap splatter like stars because they are SO heavy. Why even write when a picture is worth more.

Happy Birthday my little love. I miss you and granny and gramps and Rudy love and miss you too. I can only wish to feel you again, somewhere.

Everything for a reason

2009-10-21T12:11:00.000-07:00

I am having a difficult time with time. Everyone says that time heals all wounds. Lies. Time is nothing more than a unit of measurement from event "a" to event "b". Dunkin' would be 8 in a couple of days and the time (whether it is a day, an hour, or one month) that has past since his death has done nothing to sooth me. I do not admit this to several people and the truth is, I cry daily and nightly. I was told recently that my eyes betray my emotions. He said that even when I am happy, my eyes always look sad. Seems to me like the windows to my soul are quite transparent.

I met someone yesterday that I knew I would meet one day. I met the man who designed the Macy's Balloons. I always pictured a Dunkin' the Service Dog Macy's Day balloon and I said to him, "It's great to finally meet you. You will design the Dunkin' balloon someday." We smiled and will jam again next week. Dunkin' would have loved last night. The boy adored live music and a bohemian lifestyle... anything that made his momma happy and calm.

When I cry I do it to myself. I can stop it, if anyone can. It's mighty hard to do. I'm in this alone and alone is new to me. Or, rather... without Dunkin'... that's what is new to me. I am doing my best and that's about all I can do.

October

2009-10-09T13:23:00.000-07:00

Dunkin' should have been 8 years old this month on the 23rd. I already am at a loss for how I feel regarding his birthday. I always had a party for him, I have video of them as well. If I had a computer at home and some internet access I would post those memories. Last year it was somber as I was in a nasty relationship. The year before it was so much fun. Either way, he had 7 great birthdays...almost 8.

Last year... last year... I had him. Last year I entered him in the Dog Day Masquarade contest in Times Square. He was Young Dunkenstein. He was so adored, so loved by all who saw him. The Broadway actor who played Young Frankenstein took a particular liking to Dunkin'. And Dunkin', being the Zen puppy that he is, reveled in the love. I loved teaching him that he should enjoy hugs and love from good people. He always looked at me for approval and he always got it. He never needed it from me but he just always looked at me. He was always aware of me... where I was, was I safe, was I sad... nobody has cared for me with such intent other than my own mother.

I miss you Dunkin' dog. I hate saying that I miss you because I should not have to. I love you, Dunkin'.

Dunkin' Dream

2009-09-24T08:05:00.000-07:00

Dunkin' was in my dream briefly last night. I was unaware of him in the dream. I expected him to be there, part of my daily life as he once was for almost 8 years. I awoke satisfied, just wishing that I could have noticed him running circles happily in my dream. I should have picked him up and loved him. Instead, a large black fluffy cat with white paws made a bed of my face. The cat rubbed its face and white muzzle all over my mouth and cheeks repeatedly. I fell asleep in my dream to this large cat loving me in its cat way. In real life I would have sneezed it off of me as I am allergic to cats. Either way, I recall feeling so much affection. Just what I needed to generate in my own brain I suppose. I miss Dunkin's affection. I miss showing him mine. This is why all of my friends are getting longer hugs and why I am like a lost child looking for who I can hug next.

Buddhist path

2009-09-22T10:17:00.000-07:00

In the darkness of grieving a traumatic loss I am fortunate to have made several friends here and in other states/ countries. these friends are what help me dry my tears and keep my chin up. Sometimes all I need is a hug, just some body to hold me. It's a new thing, my hugging has changed somewhat. I really like to hug back even more than I used to. It's like I need it all over my skin and my center.

I miss the daddy of course... nightly, that has not changed. I also miss my sense of Independence with him. Dunkin' was bigger than I think he ever knew. My hands have not tingled this week, hurrah. I am rubbing them a lot, the muscles feel a bit tight. I do enjoy when someone rubs my hands and arms just right.

Dunkin' gave me my daily hug dose.. Without him, I am going through withdrawal and depression...with grace, I must add. The house of cards was destroyed and now I have to pick up the deck and make sense of it all again. Except key cards are always gone with Dunkin' actually really gone from my life. In the aftermath, what matters are hugs from good people, honesty with myself, and the gentle kindness that I am receiving from friends new and old and for that, I am grateful.

Time

2009-09-15T13:45:00.000-07:00

They say time heals all wounds. Well, so far, the pain has not even subsided. I am not crying all day at my desk and that is only because I am forcing myself not to. I was talking to someone at lunch today, a compassionate person. It was nice to know that others feel compassion for all living things as I do. I knew it would come up, Dunkin's story and my story as I watched a squirrel accost a woman for her purse full of peanuts. What did I expect, this is Manhattan.

I cried in front of a stranger for lunch. I did it this weekend at the basenji meet up as well. Toy poodles jumped on me as if I had some secret poodle treat. They hung around me and my lap as I told my story to 2 women, dog owners. They both had tears in their eyes. It pains me to see people react that way and then I remember, wait... this happened to me.

As I am sitting on the bench at lunch and I feel the sting. My chest and abdomen sting, like an open wound with alcohol being poured into it at a steady rate. The pain I feel for Dunkin' not being in my life due to the horrific actions of S.D Soto and his fellow DPS officers astounds me. I feel like the fabric of my soul is torn and tender, exposed to the moment, to the pain that is my loss of my dearest best friend on Earth. It feels as if someone is pouring on the pain, the sting sets in my chest and burns from a place that is deeper than any heartburn anyone has endured. This reaches my spirit and twists it in its most vulnerable stage. I hope I can get over this pain... until now, time has done nothing for me.

MS not right

2009-09-11T14:00:00.001-07:00

Something is wrong with my body. It is mourning and grieving the loss of my best friend and healer. Last night I went out to distract myself from the rough days I've had. It was fashion night, lots of models and actors all over Broadway. Bond street, my favorite in the city, looked unrecognizable with all the "euro trash" (not what I think of them, but that's the term that's used) lining the streets. I walked by Liv Shrieber I think is his name. Dinorah and I got to a store and were looking around. My left hand, the pinky and ring finger began to cramp incredibly. It was so painful that I held my breath and tried my best to ignore the sharp pain shooting up my arm and really digging in to the fingers. I didn't tell my friend what was happening. It's a sign of weakness to me. I can handle physical pain.

This morning I have a bruise from the damage on my veins. One would think I banged it on something very hard. It was the vein, maybe vessel burst, I don't know. I was doing nothing out of the ordinary, just walking. You can see it in my crappy phone pic, the left pinky the top knuckle. It is darker. Bruised.

The one thing out of the ordinary is my mental state. I am devastated. Even my family does not know what to do. I just have to keep walking, fighting through cramping hands for now. It pales in comparison to my broken spirit.

It's overwhelming me

2009-09-10T09:29:00.001-07:00

Yesterday and today, I am overwhelmed with pain and longing. This was so wrong. This should not have happened if the car rental agency just put me in a car that was CLEAR to be driven. Dunkin' should be alive. It's just killing me right now. I sit and I do not move a muscle. Tears, heavy pain soaked clear tears escape my eyes and I'm not even whimpering. They just collect there until everything is blurry and they fall with their own weight. I've never cried so much in all of my life as I have these past 2 months.

The only thing that pulls me back is the love I have received from friends and family and adopted families all over the globe. I had to call my brother in the middle of a crisis minutes ago... I feel like I'm spinning out of control in my mind. I do not know what to do with myself. I went to the bathroom and cried, the grieving was going to escape one way or another. I sunk onto the floor and the crying continued. I have to pull myself together. I know I can, but I was just adding photos to the FaceBook Causes page at www.facebook.com/justicefordunkin

Seeing him again, how happy we were... it brought his love right back to me, then I realize, I can't touch that scruffy neck again or feels his weight push against my body to get closer when we hug. I wont be able to see or hear him drink water again. And it should not have turned out this way if it were not for the gross negligence and abuse by the Department of Public Safety. I can't believe they are called the DPS. What a farse. I have never felt more UNSAFE in my life.

Email, Call, and have others do the same. This is a start, more contacts to come. Doesn't it feel good to know you are making a difference?

2009-08-27T14:03:00.000-07:00

I emailed a few. The rest I will email tomorrow since I've been at work now from 8-6pm. Here is the list that people should focus on. PLEASE EMAIL THEM and have your friends do it too. THANK YOU ALL.

http://www.visitsedona.com/index.php?action=article&id=82

Link to Sedona Chamber of Commerce Members

Chamber of Commerce Staff

Jennifer Wesselhoff, President/CEO: jwess@sedonachamber.com
email

Allen Hustead, Director of Finance
email

Michelle Conway, Director of Tourism
email

Sachiko Sado, Tourism Development Manager
email

Heather Hermen PR & Communication Manager, Film Office Contact
email

Daniela Newth, Membership Coordinator
email

Leslie Hunt, Director of Visitor Services
email

Link to Email Jan Brewer- Govenor of Arizona

http://azgovernor.gov/Contact.asp

Senator John McCain

info@johnmccain.com

The Mayor of Sedona- Rob Adams (who says Sedona wants to “stay out of this”)

Too late!

RAdams@sedonaaz.gov

Reporters from the Arizona Republic Newspaper

craig.anderson@arizonarepublic.com, megan.boehnke@arizonarepublic.com

peter.corbett@arizonarepublic.com, nathan.gonzalez@arizonarepublic.com

Sharon Henry- Executive Director- Arizona Office of Tourism

shenry@azot.gov

Catherine Rourke- Sedona Observer Newspaper

editor@sedonaobserver.com

Sedona Red Rock News- Editor

typeset@larsonnewspapers.com

Celebrities/Animal Rights Crusaders:

Shirley Maclaine - info@shirleymaclaine.com

Michael Moore-

Leann Rimes- community@leannrimesworld.com

Doris Day Animal Foundation- http://ddaf.org/dd/?page_id=98

Animals Matter Too- Celebrity Organization/Activists

janet@animalsmattertoo.com

Progress

2009-08-27T12:19:00.000-07:00

I have a lawyer now who believes in what I am protecting.

I am protecting your rights. I am on a mission to have Dunkin's Law passed and those who are guilty, the DPS officers who are responsible for raping me of my Independence on Independence Day, ironically, will be brought to justice.

I presented a presentation I worked on for quite a while to new students today and enjoyed speaking to them and informing them about their expectations and the program. I smiled with gratitude and accepted the faculty's very sincere compliments with pretty white teeth showing as they spoke. Even after it was said and done, they came to my office to give additional kudos.

Normally, when I had my Dunkin' dog, I would feel accomplished only after getting home and hugging him with a full body hug as my "hello." I would call out "assuuuume... the... position!" Dunkin' would jump on the couch and lie down. He knew what to do. The body hug from yours truly would then cover his chocolate minpin body with a great big tight hug. At that point, I felt accomplished. I had his love in my arms. Then he would humble me by pooping on the street on our walk to Washington Square Park. I would pick up his poo with a doggie bag and carry on to the dog run. Seeing him "assume the position" gave me a sense of accomplishment that would echo within me all day. Dunkin' gave me freedom to believe in myself regardless of tingly legs or numb and cramping feet that MS causes. With him by my side, anything was possible.

I appreciate the compliments from a job well done. I just do not have the soul with whom I used to seal that accomplishment in my life anymore due to the horrible tragedy caused by DPS officers in Arizona. Dunkin' was the icing on my Magnolia cupcake. Everyone knows that a Magnolia cupcake without the frosting is not the same experience. It is all drier to me now.

Pain

2009-08-26T10:38:00.001-07:00

Last night my brother sat beside me while I cried out of the blue. It hits me at night, the longing for Dunkin.' I miss hugging him and those thousand kisses I would bath him with. A pain starts in my chest, right in the center. It is dry ice and takes my breath away. I rub the spot with my right hand, putting pressure, trying to sooth the icy hole behind my breastbone. Then the tidal wave of something that I think is best described as "loss," rolls in and wipes me out. The wave becomes tears, the tears become thoughts, then I am back there again, in the back of that car, and it's extremely hot and suffocating and I am watching Dunkin' being chased down the highway and nobody will listen to me even though the signs of the rental car are in S.D Soto's right hand and Dunkin's orange vest was already inspected, a card pulled out and read, and still, no one cares to even look at me, acknowledge that I exist.

Everything hurts. My organs and my skin. My blood.

Dunkin' Diamond

2009-08-25T06:10:00.000-07:00

Every night Dunkin' used to leap up onto bed and choose his spot beside me. We'd fuss around until we realized our most perfect position. It was usually me spooning his body and holding his broad chest with my left hand. I expected Dunkin' to be a big brother to kids I will someday have. And now he's not here. There is a vacuum inside of my chest.

I look at us in these pictures and it blows my mind. I cannot even believe that this happened. The images and sounds of July 4th are vividly in my mind and I think..."Is Dunkin' really gone? Could the cops really have thrown caution to the wind and acted like robots that day? When will I wake up to my life again?" I am still in shock.

Dunkin' impacted my daily life and my life plans. With him gone, everything is new to me. I still picture him trotting beside me everywhere I go. I miss his presence, his spirit, his affection.

I heard that I can have Dunkin's ashes turned into a diamond. The only way I can think to commemorate Dunkin's brilliant life is by getting his remains turned into something that signifies his resplendence in my life daily. This is something that would help me feel warm when I wish he was still here... as he really SHOULD be... but fate is fate, destiny is destiny, and I am doing the best that I can. That's all I can do.

I found out that law officials are responsible for many pet deaths.

2009-08-24T12:43:00.000-07:00

Click to learn what you can sue for when your animal companion is wrongfully killed

I called the Animal League Defense Fund and discovered that they are more to help once I secure an attorney. I do see that there is a lot for which I can sue. Ultimately legislation has to be passed for car rental agencies and protocol needs to be reviewed and strict penalties must be issued to law enforcers.

The woman at the ALDF said that there are hundreds of calls in regards to police officials killing house pets. It has to stop now.

Email Rosamaria here

2009-08-24T09:52:00.000-07:00

I can be reached at justicefordunkin@gmail.com

Thank you all for reading what happened to change my life forever. I will be posting blogs on how I have endured this trying time. A lot has to do with my supportive brother, my saint of a mother and my steady father and of course the extremely gorgeous people that have entered my life since July 4th- Marnie, Michelle, Liz, Adam, (and other quite gorgeous people as well....and those whom I have known for years, Leroy, Annamaria, Howard, Cindy, Andrea, Trish, and also Jagger, who was Dunkin's "brother" and who also misses Dunkin'. I do not hold many people this close to my heart and you all already have a permanent place there for all you are doing and continue to do for Dunkin' dog and me. I have stayed away from writing as it brings it all up again. I have written about what happened at my article which I write in regards to living with Multiple Sclerosis. I have met readers from Europe in the past who pass by NYC to share great healthy meals and conversation and support.

I will tell you that your positive energy and thoughts travel at the speed of thought. Dunkin' and I thank you for everything you are doing to have this story reach all corners of the planet. I will be translating my experience into Spanish as soon as I have a chance. I work full time and am a grad student and have to find time to dance for my body, and laugh for my soul especially in a time where PTSD and depression. I'm getting through this though I feel another scar has already occurred within me on July 4th.

I died that day. They took something from me. Not just Dunkin'... they took my dreams. It was not right.

I will be posting more often pending alloted time. I do not have a computer at home so I do not respond on weekends. If you would like to reach me please reach me at the email above.

Namaste,
Rosamaria

Dunkin' rarely digs... he was so happy, he was a digging Dunkin' dog on July 4th, 2009. This is just hours before his life was taken.

2009-08-20T08:06:00.001-07:00

Dunkin' Dog and Rosamaria at the summit, Sedona Arizona July 3rd and 4th 2009

2009-08-19T08:54:00.000-07:00

Dunkin' and Rosamaria- summit of a red rock. July 3rd, 2009 Sedona, AZ

2009-08-19T08:52:00.000-07:00

The Tragedy

2009-07-14T08:06:00.000-07:00

On July 4th I was driving alone with my service dog of almost 8 years of age, Dunkin’, in the rear seat towards the middle. I was pulled over on I-17 after being tailed for about one mile. The cop was very close to the rental car I was driving which was a gray Toyota corolla. The vehicle was due back on Sunday and I had planned on returning it, then utilizing the airport shuttle to catch my early flight back to New York’s La Guardia airport with Dunkin as my travel companion.

I pulled over to a safe spot on the shoulder of the road and the cop opened the door and drew out a shot gun. He actually AIMED it at me. I could see his eye aiming and it made no sense. I was shouted at and told to keep my hands where he can see them. This seemed very strange and not at all common for being pulled over. I could hear shot gun cocked and I realized that something was not right. I obeyed his shouts to keep my hands up and I allowed Dunkin to continue sleeping in order to keep us both calm. I was ordered to get out of the car, walk backwards without looking, and was very confused… I was going further and further away from Dunkin’.

I was shouted at to kneel, yelled at and then immediately cuffed and put in the back seat of a cop car. I immediately told him that my service animal is in the back of the car and to please be careful with him as he is license in NY state and is official for my Multiple Sclerosis. The car was overwhelmingly hot and my MS symptoms began as I tried breathing for fresh air. It was getting hotter and now he was drawing a weapon to the vehicle. I was very frightened that they would kill Dunkin’ as they looked like they would do so with the weapons drawn so intently.

The cop opened the rental car door which was nearest the I-17 traffic. Dunkin’ rested soundly on that side of the vehicle. When the door was opened, the cop let him get out of the car onto oncoming traffic. Dunkin’ got out of the vehicle confused. He ran into oncoming traffic, looking for me. His mission is to look for me, wherever I may be. As cars swerved and missed him… I screamed. I prayed and screamed at the top of my lungs for my companion’s safety. The cop S.D Soto (who was the one who aimed at me through his shotgun, also cuffed me) walked to the front of the car passenger area. He pulled out Dunkin’s fluorescent orange service vest and read the insert in his pocket which states that he is a service animal and he is protected under the Americans with Disabilities Act of 1990. S.D Soto Read the facts, read my rental agreement (which was located on the passenger seat area) and continued to ignore my pleas for help and air conditioning.

At this point a red headed cop was on the scene too, along with a thicker sized blonde-red headed cop. I will never forget their faces. One wore shades, the other had glasses and piercing blue eyes. They completely ignored my existence and did not check on me. Someone chased Dunkin’ and I told them that he would ONLY come to me. I begged and pleaded to allow them to let me call for him. S.D Soto told me to shut up and I was annoying him. He said that he would gag me next, if I said another word and did not cooperate.

I noticed my wrists were really in a lot of pain and my body temperature was rising in the back of the car. Dunkin was nowhere to be seen, he ran off into the area where desert grows. At this point, I hoped coyotes would not get him. I was screaming for them to listen to my pleas and my proof that it was a rental and I do indeed have MS and need my service animal for my well-being. Again, I was shouted at while they walked around calmly with no care for Dunkin or my safety. My safety was compromised the moment they ignored me and Dunkin’. They never read me any rights, and continued to walk around, ignoring how hot I was in that car. It felt like a fish out of water and I was gasping for air.

Dunkin’ came back through the desert area to about 10 yards north of the vehicle which obtained me. I screamed again, and begged them to keep him safe. They again chased him, frightened him, and he ran northbound. I never saw my Dunkin’ again.

At this point the sergeant… Robert Hardt, was called to the scene. I was let out of the vehicle, still cuffed very tightly. I am 5 feet tall and weigh 110 lb’s. I whistled in vain to call Dunkin’.. I was not allowed to walk towards the area he has run towards. I was not allowed to move. I was on the gravel on the side of the road waiting for the cops to do something. I begged the sergeant to lead me, with the cuffs, or however he seemed fit, in order for me to be able to get to Dunkin’ to whistle for him. He told me not to worry and “the dog will come back.”

A cop car came back with Dunkin’s destroyed body in it. I asked an officer… is there anything left… the red headed one with the glasses and blue eyes shook his nod, indicating that there was nothing left to see. At that point, I began to mourn. I screamed and I screamed in shock. My hands were still cuffed. I was thirsty, the srgt gave me water from a water bottle he had in his car. Around that point, I was uncuffed. I called my friends and family in NY and AZ and no one answered for what seemed an eternity. I finally reached a friend in NYC and I screamed in agony at the trauma I had just undergone.

The srgt called ambulance to see about my MS. They said to me, “you cannot scream and cry in my ambulance.” I refused treatment since I could not help my emotions of having lost my dearest best friend in this earth. They wanted to sedate me and start and IV on me. I refused this as I did not think I would wake up if I allowed them to stick a needle in me. Already they had violated me.

A sheriff’s chaplain was then called to the scene. My phone died, and I was able to speak to my brother, who was in Hawaii vacationing, through the srgt’s cell phone. My brother was extremely concerned about my MS as he understands the close bond that Dunkin and I have shared for almost 8 years. I was in no condition to drive, I do not know who drove the rental back to the rental location. My belongings were put in a bag, I was put in a car with the chaplain and I continued to document my bruising by photographing my wrists with the time on the dash board.

I grieved the entire way to the hospital asking the chaplain for words of consolation and he was speechless. The bruising on my legs from kneeling on the tar/gravel started to emerge when I got back to NYC. I have attached those pictures in a previous email. I was never cited for anything, I was never read any rights, I was not arrested. I ended up in the hospital and was given a sedative. I had x-rays taken of my wrists as the pain was excruciating to the slightest touch.

My friend Andrea took Dunkin’s remains to the animal crematory where Dunkin’ was cremated. His remains arrive in New York in a few days.

I have already felt the symptoms of MS which has been in full remission for 4 years. My left hand buzzes and tingles, my capacity to concentrate has diminished and my job is in jeopardy. I am a Master’s degree student at NYU and begin a new class tomorrow. I have received 2 A’s and 3 B’s in the coursework I have achieved and I hold a position of Learning Specialist at the College of Dentistry. I am my sole provider and feel the stresses of this trauma impeding my rest, my work, my concentration, my spirit (which feels broken). I experience nightmares nightly and sever bouts of mourning. My life is not the same.