Justice for Dunkin' Dog: September 2009

Thursday, September 24, 2009

Dunkin' Dream

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.

Tuesday, September 22, 2009

Buddhist path

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.

Tuesday, September 15, 2009

Time

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.

Friday, September 11, 2009

MS not right

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.

Thursday, September 10, 2009

It's overwhelming me

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.

The Tragedy

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 Barker 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.

Justice for Dunkin' Dog