There are days I can’t seem to get out of bed. I will lie there feeling completely and totally useless and start to cry. Suddenly, this little pipsqueak begins to pester me. “Leave me alone,” I’ll mumble through tears of self despair to my little man. “I can barely walk today, I can’t drive, I can’t work, I can’t go to the store, I can’t sell food, I can’t write, I can’t go in this room, I can’t go in that room, I can’t do this, I can’t do that. I can’t get out of bed. Just go away.”

Yet, unlike the other pets or human companions, he doesn’t go. He instead becomes relentless. First he paws, then whines, then paws and whines. And eventually starts stomping around on me. If that doesn’t work? He slurps my face and barks right in my ear. This ritual of climbing on my head, pawing, whining and barking continues until…I get up.

And eventually, I do get out of bed. His persistence is amazing. The moment I sit up, he jumps onto my pillow and lies down. I start to make the bed and grumble about wanting to sleep until three pm. Where is Jackson once I stand up? Back in his own bed curled up under covers until lunch. Unless I need him. But for now, I walk into rooms that once made me feel trapped due to agoraphobia. A condition that was brought on by a neurological disorder that affects my body both mentally and physically.

With Jackson by my side, I went through nearly a year of speech and physical therapy to regain the majority of my speech and movement in my upper body. I will always struggle but I feel safer now. Doors and spaces once closed open thanks to my little man. My service dog may be small but he sure is mighty.

Baking with a service dog and other pets became challenging early on. Luke will climb in any cabinet if you open it, jump on the fridge, walk over a hot stove, swat your hand as you try to do delicate work while leaving behind a furry path. Scout will run around and chase my apron strings and stretch up yowling for pets.

Maggie and Ray will hover, following every step you take. Maggie likes to park herself within the kitchen triangle and swoops up anything you drop on the ground. Raymond will herd and trip you. The chickens? Well, they stay outside and are the best of the group in that regard. Until you need eggs the most and they decide to take the day or month off.

Then there is the counter surfing, 9 pound service dog, Jackson. He is trained to get my attention when I get sick. He was taught to climb up and get face to face if necessary. Jackson is very clever and he is very persistent. You can actually see his wheels turning in problem solving situations. It’s very fascinating to see how intelligent this dog is and how he has evolved as a service dog. Today, he climbed up and sat down next to my freshly cleaned dishes. The ones I cleaned for the third time already seeing spots that weren’t there.

What was going on this day? Well, I was obsessing about contamination, ironically. I must have washed my hands about 30 odd times by noon and still felt unclean. Every time Luke walked on a counter, Maggie jumped up to see what was baking and Ray circled around, I cleaned more and more. And eventually, my anxiety started to rise as my hands began to crack and bleed. I started to panic about making people including myself sick and started to feel like I was going to pass out.

That’s when Jackson woke up from his nap and came running into the kitchen. He jumped up in two leaps and sat on the counter. I know he is telling me: slow down. If I keep going, he will start to become a serious pest. Jumping on me, pawing and eventually barking and whining. Because of him I can work within my limitations of this quirky condition. And that suits me fine.

The moral of this story? Don’t eat at my house if you hate animals. Seriously. I clean more than most people due to having OCD and PTSD from the trauma I mentioned above. But if Jackson needs to do his job, he does his job and on the counter, that’s where you’ll sometimes find him. I fear germs, but my health comes first. It has to come first or I just stop living. I hated creating this post, but when a friend harshly criticized my pets in the kitchen on social media, I realized it was time. In the meantime, let’s make a lovely citrus cake to brighten our mood, shall we?