#service tasks

[grison-in-space]

idly I was chatting with the house about the sort of dog that would be good to do Matilda's job. You know, the "pester ADHD human when stuck" task and the "make that human go to bed on time" tasks are really useful, but they're very experimental for me--I don't know many people who have trained them in a service capacity.

So I was thinking about whether you could teach these tasks to a dog who's a lot less... *gestures* that than she is. I've run into a few people who consider the idea wistfully, consider Matilda, and visibly go "yeah, but I do not want to handle that dog." Which is fair. I did this to myself on purpose, but I'm aware that I'm sensory-seeking in some very specific ways. So I spend a fair bit of time thinking about what is working for me about her training and her nascent tasks, and whether you could do this more easily with dogs that are better tuned to public access needs.

Obviously yes, you could teach the tasks in the sense of, the skills she is learning are not difficult skills to achieve. You can teach a touch target to an eight week old puppy. I'm extremely certain that you can teach just about any dog to aggressively touch-target a human in response to a acoustic cue (since I use both phone alarms and vocal cues, both of which appear to be incredibly helpful when I get stuck).

The thing is, I'm not sure whether the task is something a retriever would enjoy. I feel like this is something where the dog has to actively enjoy being in conflict with its handler a bit, like friendly wrestling or the kind of rough teasing that is actually fun for all parties. I often wail and try to mildly resist Matilda's cues; I am very very very careful not to undermine her understanding of what I will reward her for, but there's also a reason I thought it would be worth it for me to train a dog to do this task. Getting up myself in response to an alarm doesn't work; I need an external push to get up quickly, and I tend to resist a little.

Matilda, because she is the kind of asshole I really do enjoy in a dog, apparently finds pushing me around really fun. Once she understood that I wasn't really upset when I zone or whine, and will in fact tell her "good girl! well done!" if she successfully herds me through my tasks or makes me listen to a recorded alarm, she seems to have conceptualized any flailing from me as play conflict: fun to push through, ritualized and not a big deal, and a fun game.

The question I have is: do those of you with softer, "easier" dogs think that your dogs would be happy to play a game like this? I'm really curious. I think I could teach most terriers to do this without a problem, but I'm not sure how more traditionally biddable herders and gundogs would respond to it.

@doomspaniels , particularly curious about your thoughts: I know you do similar task work with your spaniels and have been doing it much longer than I have!

Have a cute dog photo for good luck.

[booksandbrainsandsoftthings]

Officially forming the theory that the reason more service dog handlers don't use protective gear like boots, goggles, and ear protection on their dog is because the public becomes 3000% more unbearable when they try.

We're all used to "aaaaawwww look the the doggo" when we go out with our working animals, but getting

1. Accosted for pictures (whether folks ask or just invade your space and distract your dog)

2. Pointed at like an exhibit

3. Shouted at (OMG DOGGLES, "why is it wearing that" etc)

4. Actively followed around by strangers

Is downright fucking awful.

I know it looks cool. I know some of our gear is specialized. I know pet dogs don't usually wear/tolerate what SDs learn the wear. But for the love of whatever you deem holy, BE KIND ABOUT IT. All of the actions listed above are just fucking rude. Leave people alone. Leave service dogs alone.

Disabled people can exist without being spectacles

[7millionheartemojis]

"i can take care of myself" <- girl who absolutely fucking cannot

[dontmeantobepoliticalbut]

Illinois Governor JB Pritzker has signed a bill that is aimed at fighting homelessness.

Called “Home IL,” it will bring state agencies, nonprofit organizations and other advocates together. The bill focuses on an equity-based approach, which includes the voices and contributions of those who have experience homelessness.

It codifies the collaboration to move Illinois to “functional zero” homelessness by bolstering the safety net, targeting high-risk populations, expanding affordable housing, securing financial stability for unhoused individuals and closing the mortality gap.

“Every person deserves access to safe shelter and the dignity that comes with housing,” Pritzker said. “This is a first-of-its-kind multi-agency cooperative effort — bringing together state agencies, nonprofit organizations, advocates, and people with lived experience to prevent and end homelessness. I’m grateful for their dedication and believe that together, we can prevent and end homelessness once and for all.”

Rockford has already taken strides in this aspect. In 2017, it became the first community to reach “functional zero” levels among veterans and the chronically homeless.

Illinois’ Interagency Task Force and Community Advisory Council works across 17 state departments and agencies, as well as over 100 processes, programs and policies, to develop a comprehensive plan to combat homelessness.

The goal of the plan is to prevent shelter entry or ensure that shelter stays are limited and lead to quick transitions into stable living situations.

Pritzker has also committed about $360 million for the initiative in his FY24 budget. These investments include:

• $118 million to support unhoused populations seeking shelter and services, including $40.7 million in the Emergency and Transitional Housing Program.

• $50 million in Rapid ReHousing services for 2,000 households, including short-term rental assistance and targeted support for up to two years.

• $40 million in Permanent Supportive Housing (PSH) Capital funds to develop 90+ new PSH units providing long term rental assistance and case management.

• $37 million in Emergency Shelter capital funds to create more than 460 non-congregate shelter units.

• $35 million for supportive housing services, homeless youth services, street outreach, medical respite, re-entry services, access to counsel, and other shelter diversion supports.

• $21.8 million to provide homelessness prevention services to approximately 6,000 more families.

• $30 million for court-based rental assistance.

• $15 million to fund Home Illinois Innovations Pilots.

• $12.5 million to create 500 new scattered site PSH units.

“People experiencing the trauma of housing instability are our neighbors and community members who deserve to be treated with humanity and dignity. With this cooperative effort, Illinois is ensuring our state agencies can continue to collaborate, and that stakeholders are at the table with us, to support our most vulnerable in living healthy, well, and with dignity.” Lieutenant Governor Juliana Stratton said. “Our state is making it clear that we will continue to work together so we can all move forward, and we will focus on holistic strategies that bring us closer to ending homelessness in our state.”

[leolaroot]

ferengi with a service slug. its shell is waist high with a brightly patterned harness and it helps with mobility and allergen detection tasks.

support sehlat in a Vulcan classroom used for emotional self-regulation in small children. you can bury your face in soft fur or get deep pressure therapy from a large paw pressing into the centre of your chest

an old bajoran farmer who was once a resistance fighter and is always accompanied by one of his livestock, who are untrained but eager to offer support when the pain of old injuries takes away control of his right leg

a blind starfleet officer lead by a guide dog through the halls of their starship to the laboratory where they work. the dog wears an official starfleet harness and their own combadge

a young bolian woman with paralyzed hands whose service bird has been trained to retrieve, carry, and manipulate objects, open doors, and get the attention of her support worker when they arent physically near

[fayeandknight]

Tried hiding my keys in an entirely new spot and he still found them pretty quickly. I think this might be his favorite tasks, he loves finding the keys.

[johnslittlespoon]

accidentally just created my own buckbucky college au oops (i love college aus tho, this was far overdue tbh) so here's like ~2k words of (semi–nsfw) drabble that i wanna turn into a oneshot/series :-)

thinking about modern au pre–established relationship buckbucky who meet in their first year of college because they apply to an ad to rent a two bedroom apartment near campus, complete strangers save for a few texts back and forth until move in day.

they become fast friends despite how opposite they are, john being a cliche frat boy type (but subverting expectations by majoring in something english–related? waxing secret poetry about his 'obvious as the sun to everyone but gale' crush on his roommate lol) and gale being a studious math/science major, no interest in parties or campus culture. pining aside, everything's just fine until:

john does something stupid a few months into the school year and ends up spraining/breaking his dominant arm– probably wipes out trying to ride his bike home to his and gale's apartment while drunk after a party. gale gets a call at midnight from a sheepish john asking if he can come drive him to the hospital, and of course he does, though after his initial concern when he picks john up at the side of some random street, he's fuming at john's idiocy.

"you could've rode into traffic, john. jesus, you're gonna give me a stroke one of these days, you gotta start using your brain more." and john's drenched in cold–sweat from pain as he cradles his arm to his chest, head tilted back against the headrest and trying not to curse out every red light as his head spins, but he still cracks a weak smile and says "c'mon buck, you'd be bored if i started using my brain." gale glances over and the stern look is enough to shut john up.

this injury leads to gale having to help him with certain tasks for a bit, like shaving his face, brushing his teeth, doing his hair, tying shoes, etc. john's stubborn the day after, independent to a fault, refusing to ask for help, and gale watches with mild amusement/hidden winces, not wanting to push because he knows by now it'll only make john dig his heels in. gale only decides that enough is enough when he's walking past the half–open bathroom door the next afternoon and suddenly hears a sharp inhale and a stream of profanities and pokes his head in to find john's cut his jaw trying to shave with his left hand.

the intimacy and domesticity of it all– john pretends he's inconvenienced, but once he realizes this means he gets to stare at gale's focussed face up close as he sits on the bathroom counter and gale stands between his legs carefully shaving away his stubble, he's a lot less reluctant to accept help. but being that close to gale's face and being able to unabashedly study his long lashes and the curve of his lips is dangerous for john's lack of impulse control, barely keeping his pining under wraps from the moment they'd met, let alone with this newfound proximity they have to fall into the routine of.

so john has fun being a shithead on purpose during these moments, both to distract his yearning brain and for his own entertainment, just yapping away while gale's frustratedly trying to grab him by his jaw and hold him still for five seconds. biting down on the toothbrush when gale's trying to do a proper job of brushing his teeth so gale has to wrestle it away like he's playing tug of war with a dog, being an asshole and jerking his shoe to the side while gale's doing up his laces for him, heart leaping at the thrill he gets from gale's touches getting firmer when he's fed up, or from being pinned by irritated blue eyes.

he has no idea gale's pining just as hard, because gale's a master of concealing emotions in thanks to a very different upbringing than john's, and because while gale doesn't hide his queerness, he's not as open with it as john is. but gale's losing his mind just as much each time john needs his help, and the way he feels his self control slipping scares him.

this little dance around each other probably comes to a peak when john's being extra difficult one day while gale's trying to tame his wild curls for him. gale's got john pressed back against the bathroom counter with a scowl, working his gelled fingers through thick dark hair, and john can barely think straight because oh, has he ever spent an ungodly amount of time thinking about gale's hands in his hair under very different circumstances.

john's got a grin so big it near splits his face in half as he purposefully leans out of gale's reach, pulling every annoying thing he can think of because if he focuses too hard on gale's motions, he's gonna pop a very inconvenient boner with no hope of concealing it from gale with the way he's pressed up against him.

but gale's got twenty minutes until his next class and it's a ten minute walk from their apartment, and he's at the end of his rope, so he finally snaps and without giving it a second thought he closes the last bit of distance between them to grab at the back of john's hair, and he pulls, hard.

the smile slides off john's face as his mouth falls open and his hips reflexively jerk forward and whatever scolding gale was about to give him dies in his throat because holy shit. there's a few seconds where both of them just stare at each other wide eyed with their hearts pounding, john internally spiralling because he thinks he's just fucked everything up, gale internally spiralling because oh my god, he hasn't been misreading john's behaviour around him.

gale whispers a "fuck" and, more impulsive than he's ever allowed himself to be, goes in for the kiss, hand still tight in john's hair, and john whines into his mouth and his hands fly to gale's waist and everything gets heated really quick– until gale pulls away with a gasp for breath, both of them panting, cheeks flushed and eyes heavy. and then gale's ducking out of the bathroom and grabbing his backpack from the entry way and all but sprinting out of the apartment.

john's left standing there harder than he's ever been in his life but also panicking because he's not sure whether he's fucked up or whether gale's just overwhelmed, because he knows gale well enough to know he likes his space when big things happen.

but gale also knows john well enough to know how big of an overthinker he is; they've probably had to work through some incidents where their communication styles have clashed over the few months they've been roomies. so after his hands stop shaking enough while he's walking to campus, he types out a message to john letting him know 'I'm all good. Sorry for running, was gonna be late for class and panicked. Talk later, yeah?'

and john sighs in relief, texts back a 'np. sounds good :)' and then promptly shoves a hand down his pants and comes embarrassingly quick with the sting of gale's hands in his hair still fresh in his mind.

they talk things out somewhat, blahblahblah plotting problem for future me, but they're both shy and awkward around each other for a bit, which is so out of character for john and how obnoxiously flirty and loud mouthed he normally is.

so maybe what finally breaks them out of this tiptoeing around each other after a few days is something stupid– specifically, john ends up pent up and frustrated because trying to get off with his left hand just isn't doing it for him. and he's one of those 'once a day minimum' guys, so this isn't something he can just ignore; finds his temper is shorter, and he can't focus as well, etc. drama queen.

either gale comments on it lightheartedly and john blurts out his problem unthinkingly, or john makes an offhand joke about it, and gale thinks john's lack of impulse control is starting to rub off on him, because after a beat of silence, he gets out an "i can help."

john's head snaps over to look at him so fast he feels like he gives himself whiplash, eyes comically rounded, wondering if he's heard gale wrong or if gale's making a rare flirtatious joke. gale blinks back at him, looking just as surprised, tips of his ears going a little pink, but he doesn't laugh or throw in a 'only kidding!'

mumbles a "y'know, if you want," second guessing himself as if what happened in the bathroom a few days before isn't in john's top three best things that have ever happened to him list. john gets out a "yeah– yeah, i want," uncharacteristically nervous, and gale nods, turning his attention back to his laptop. and john just stands there in the kitchen, flabbergasted, shifting uncertainly.

works up the courage to shyly ask, "like. now? or." and he feels like he's never fumbled the bag so hard in his life, unable to remember the last time he's felt shy when talking about sex–related stuff, realizes just how bad his crush on gale's gotten. beyond a crush, at this point. and it makes it worse that gale's so nonchalant now, humming to himself as if in deep thought before saying "later. i've gotta get this assignment done."

john loses his mind over those next few hours, trying to be patient and give gale space to focus, but he's half hard the whole time and can't think about anything other than what gale means by 'helping'. gale can sense his impatience from the other side of their apartment, and he can't help the way it makes him smile to himself, having fun teasing john without even needing to do anything, and without john knowing it's fully intentional.

unfortunately this arrangement, however it plays out, probably leads to a lotta miscommunication and repression of feelings, because they're both dumb boys who suck at communicating, neither one of them wanting to ruin a good thing (aka an inevitable friends with benefits situation) by bringing up their feelings for the other. but there's plenty of hot sex and light kink exploration in the meantime, and eventually they sort their shit out, likely by accident like every other situation they've stumbled into together.

and not to cliffhang pre–smut, but i'll leave it there because this is way too long and if i do turn it into a oneshot i don't wanna write it all out of my system into this drabble before it makes it into a fic loll <3

[vampireloverz]

thinkin about monster bakugou with a prehensile tongue….

[loadedberetta]

Berry baby🖤

I hope you're doing well and *remembering* to hydrate.

I was just talking with a friend and i find i slip into other languages expressions while I'm speaking or even typing - I'm a polyglot (I know a good few languages) including South African Sign Language. It certainly takes alot of people by surprise since it's not something I go around speaking about.

How would TF141 + Alex Kelle react with this given they never were explicitly told about this skillet before hand?

I hope you enjoy your festive season and find yourself surrounded by the most peace and happiness Love🥀

hi lovie!! (sipping on magnesium water as we speak!)

having dipped my toes in language learning too, I bow to you, polyglot friend~ holidays are hard, thank you for the encouragement, same goes to you! decided to turn them into drabbles, it was much fun, thank you for the req! alright, here is (my first req stuff ever)

141 + Alex react to: polyglot Reader

rating: M (language, light flirting?)

warnings: smoking, interrogation [military inaccuracies]

[series with random headcanons about specific situations (involving the reader) and how CoD characters would react to them; mostly the 141, but Alejandro and Rudy, Laswell, Farah, König, and others will make appearances too]

other parts: [tattoo] [pregnancy] [knife tricks] [drawing] [foreign language]

find me on ao3 // masterlist

Price

A small note was attached to your file that Price seems to have overlooked in the year and a half since you were under his command; in Laswell's handwriting, which John knew already from the countless similar notes she left for him throughout the years. Yet, this one stood out; sign language? And how many languages again? He made a mental note to ask you over grub the next day.

Breakfast was always fast; after first drill, but before the day really began. And always with your mates, switching languages with ease to accommodate new members and brothers passing through, just on transfer at the base.

Price always ate at a separate table, always. Sometimes alone, sometimes with some higher-ups. But this morning, he sat by your table, which opened up a seat for him. Everyone's body language shifted to accommodate him among you. He didn't speak, and the conversation between you and a temporary transfer settled back into a comfortable flow. His ears perked up to each sound he didn't seem to have heard from you, as they weren't part of the English phonemic system.

He himself muddled in French and some Arabic and harboured a basic understanding of Spanish since his time in Mexico, but your confidence and knowledge shone through the effortless speech. You and your speaking partner seemed to share a lighthearted conversation in a language he could only guess.

Soon, you let yourself notice his glances in your direction, often settling on your lips for short moments. Smiling to yourself, you finished your coffee as your deskmate excused themselves from the table, having emptied their tray.

Instead of turning to another group being taught foreign swearwords by a new recruit (to which you had to resist the urge to share your favourites), you lifted your gaze to meet Price's.

"Enjoying yourself, Captain?"

He chuckled, raspy.

"How did this never come up?" He asked without much sugarcoating.

"What exactly?" You chuckled.

"That you know about a dozen languages, including… South African Sign Language?"

A small smirk formed on your lips, proud of the recognition and attention to detail.

"I don't go around flaunting it." You stated plainly. "It's not even on my file, it's… just something I do, as a person; it's not for the military or anything."

"Hm." That was all he replied to that. "-but…"

"Yes?"

"Could be useful."

You could see he was pondering something.

"What if I told you I have a spot for you on officer training, hm? They're looking for… intelligence."

Ghost

( I cannot resist using this gif--)

Finding yourself behind a counter, taking orders from businessmen, assistants, and university students; not exactly how you imagined life in the big city. It was a second job of sorts, only part-time, as you couldn't squeeze in anything else besides the academy.

It was a busy morning, your shift covering the entirety of it before classes began that day. The line was only growing, and the other shiftie beside you was struggling; some foreigners complained about their order, and another pair of customers speaking a third language just rolled up to him, totally overwhelming him. Calling out a name for an order, you waved to the next in line (a sweet old immigrant lady, with whom only you could chat out of the whole team, easily overstepping the language barrier), and told her to just hang on for a moment.

You addressed the complaining couple in a well-mannered way, quickly sorted out their issue with a complimentary muffin and a cookie, and switched languages with ease, freeing your shiftie partner from the agony that was speaking any other language than English for him.

The rush died down just the slightest after a few more hectic minutes, and the shiftie went for a break when you noticed a familiar figure standing by the counter as you turned back with another order.

He gave your unit a few lessons this semester and remarked on your capabilities in strategy and urban warfare. You remembered him, and it seemed like he did too.

The usual balaclava he wore when instructing was replaced by just a black cloth mask hooked behind his ears, revealing a few more details about his face than you'd seen before.

"Sir." You addressed him, conveying you respected the civil setting, yet communicating your respect toward him considering your short but memorable history. "What can I get you?"

"Didn't know you were fluent in that many languages." He remarked after describing his simple order, making your cheeks heat up at a moment's notice.

"It's nothing, really…" You tried brushing his words off with words that came out shakier than you meant to sound.

"How many do you speak?" He asked with a small tilt of his head.

His eyes widened for a moment at your answer. "…and South African Sign Language."

A chuckle, something you'd never heard from before stuck in your ear for a good few seconds, drowned out by the milk frother.

"I don't do lesson plans, you know?"

"What?" You lightly shivered with excitement at the fact how interested he seemed in your knowledge.

"Would you mind, you know… Doing a lesson? Sign language is a valuable asset. I can give you some time next Friday."

"I…" You stuttered a bit at his proposition.

"Nothin' fancy, don't worry, darling. Just some basics."

"Alright…" You found yourself saying after a moment when the light ringing in your ears faded.

"Maybe even tell your story… I'd be interested for sure."

And with that, he grabbed his coffee from your hand, putting some coin on the counter with the other, and was out the door before you could say anything else.

Alex

He didn't talk. Not to ULF soldiers, and bravely (maybe stupidly) not even to Alex. Farah's request for you to get to the scene was… interesting. She stated her presence was required in another part of the country, and in her encrypted message, she explicitly voiced how your assistance might help ULF break the man.

So you came. Alex greeted you on the airstrip with a smile and a hug, his frame towering over yours.

"Alex, a pleasure to see you." You smirked as the two of you walked back to the nearest building.

"Can only say the same." His tone was warm and welcoming, a staple to him. "You hoping to crack our guy?" He asked you directly about the matter at hand. The small carrier that brought you here whirred into the air in the distance.

"Exactly."

"And how's that gonna go? We haven't even gotten a word out of him, let alone information."

"That's why I'm here now."

"The stage is yours." He opened the door of the large building to you and ushered you inside.

A few hours later, he stood by your side, as you tried to find a crack on the prisoner's tough shell. After many unsuccessful attempts, the tired captive let his head fall, a small curse leaving his lips. Your ears perked, and Alex could only watch the scene unfold in front of him.

In a language he only heard on the TV before maybe once, you asked the prisoner something, to which he immediately lifted his head in confusion. Pressing on, you visibly exerted yourself to gather as much as you could on the man before he would shut down again.

After a few exerting rounds of questions, you stood up abruptly, and nodded for Alex to come with you. Closing the door to the room, you turned to him, but he spoke up faster than you did.

"What is and where." He crossed his arms and awaited your answer with a bite to his lip.

"I don't know yet, but he talked about a car rigged with charges, but he's going to shut down soon, fuck…" You clicked your tongue, exhausted from the rusty pieces of knowledge forced to work in your brain at high speed.

"Hold on… He had a detonator on him when we apprehended him… Are you sure it's a car?" He backed away, looking as if he was about to bolt somewhere.

"White, small, local model." You shouted after him as he disappeared down the corridor.

You stepped back into the room and closed the door behind yourself.

A day later, you were there as Alex switched the trigger, and the car about a mile away from your position, deep in the desert blew to pieces as the two of you watched.

"How the hell did you know from a damn single word?"

"It's a local dialect, where I happened to have stayed for a while, it's not important…" You dismissed the seemingly unimportant detail with a wave of your hand.

"So we just happened to luck out on this one?" He chuckled and turned to you.

"Well, I could have tried about half a dozen more languages, but hey, if this one worked…?" You looked up at him, a small smile tugging the corner of your lips up.

"And Farah knew this?"

"Her hunches are never wrong." You shrugged.

"Yeah… You're right about that."

Gaz

You and Kyle bonded during selection. Both of you were younger than most of the cadets, and yet, somehow competed for top scores. It wasn't even a test of endurance, it was a test of who could beat the other. DS were amused by how easily you passed hurdles, just to be better than the other one, paying no attention to other competition.

And after that, the two of you became inseparable. Like people who'd known the other since childhood or had been good neighbours for years. Phone calls when oceans separated the two of you were very common, and sometimes you found eachother in inopportune situations; yet these calls only strengthened your friendship. Keeping each other company, and slowly growing to know more and more about the other.

It was a spur-of-the-moment trip, catching the first plane when you finally got your leave. A country you've only seen in books so far, but a language you'd already mastered.

Kyle called you when you were out on the first morning, trying to fetch food from a market.

"Good morning, Kyle." Your chin was visible in the frame of the phone, and the blue sky above you.

"Morning yourself, except it's the middle of the afternoon. Where are you?" He asked in a surprised tone, his face coming closer to the phone, trying to discern some landmarks around you, to no avail.

"In a market. Got on a plane yesterday, and--" You quipped, looking down at Kyle, who was visibly confused about your whereabouts.

"Jesus wept, bug, you're insane…" He shook his head, almost missing as you started haggling, faint voices breaking through the line.

He quieted down and leaned forward on his couch to listen. For a good minute, he couldn't understand a word you were saying, only listening to your voice flow, lips dancing in unique patterns. Soon, you held your quarry up to the camera, something bundled in white wax paper.

You sat down and finally positioned your phone to show your face and upper body, and a bit of the busy scenery behind you.

"You're a wizard, you know that?" He laughed and lounged back again.

"A party trick if you will. I know a few more." You shrugged, and bit into your breakfast.

"Few more?" Kyle repeated, chuckling in disbelief. "What else, like, sign language?"

"Actually…" You laughed, somewhere in the background a bell tolled distantly.

"No fucking way." Kyle licked his upper lip and looked away. "I thought I knew ya."

"There's always more to know, friend."

Soap

Sharing a room with Soap was… an experience. He was a sound sleeper, not causing much fuss at night, so you were content in that regard. The other departments, however, not much.

He was unruly, to say the least, and it took some time to get accustomed to his schedule. One of you being a morning shower type in opposition to the other being a night shower person caused some friction in the beginning, but like everything else, it settled after a while. After all, this was supposed to last only the three months the unit was stationed at this base.

You hadn't known eachother that well before, but that changed at around the one-month mark.

Having been given a few hours of phone time by Price days before for this afternoon, you set up to call your best friend, a few thousand miles setting the two of you apart. You haven't talked in way too long, and before you knew it, you'd already spent an hour talking and laughing over Facetime, phone propped against the metal grate by the foot of the bottom bunk, you sitting on the mattress.

You acknowledged Soap coming in a few times for his notebook, cigs, or to grab his coat from the back of the chair, but didn't pay it much attention, being so absorbed in the conversation with your favourite human on the other end of the line, confined to the little screen by the foot of your bed.

It was already dark outside, when Soap burst into the room, and put his finger to his lips, signalling you to be silent.

Looking down at your best friend "I need to be silent. Wait a bit."

To which they replied with an "Okay, I'll wait."

Soap flicked the light off, and a few moments later, a few people passed the room; you could hear the footsteps.

"Random inspection." He whispered as he climbed up into his bunk, trying to remain silent.

Praying your room wouldn't be chosen, as you were still in uniform instead of nightwear, you settled on your mattress too. An idea flashed through your head, and turning the brightness on your screen to high, you continued your conversation over Facetime in silence, your best friend quickly catching on to what happened, as you explained the situation in sign by the dim light.

A few minutes later, Soap climbed down from the bunk and switched the light on.

"Gaz texted, they moved on to the next building… what are ya up tae?"

He looked back at you, as you caught his glance too while signing.

"Sign. South African Sign Language. I'm talking to someone."

"Right…" He chuckled bemused, and headed out again, probably for a cig with some other delinquents, to which you shook your head with a smirk on your lips.

Later that night, when you settled to sleep for real on your back, his overgrown mohawk poked out followed by his head from above you, overlooking you on your bed.

"'eard you speakin' earlier… And that sign language too… So… Mind teachin' me some?"

(alright that's all, hope you liked it, goodnight)

[mandana-the-service-pup]

A Complex Mobility Task: 📫🦮

Since moving into a house, Mandana has started to develop a habit of barking loudly when mail or packages are dropped off. Rather than punish her for this natural behavior I’m giving her the tools to deal with it in a more productive manner.

1. She rings the bell to let me know the mail was delivered.

2. She sits and waits for me to open the door and give her commands instead of bolting outside.

3. She brings the packages inside and stacks them in a pile.

4. She opens the packages for me only when I ask and only until I ask her to stop so as not to damage anything.

5. She helps me pick up items and throw trash away.

It’s a bit of extra work for me right now but she really enjoys it and it’s going to be very helpful when the training is complete.

[princesskelseyyy]

Anyone out there in need of my service???🌸🌸🌸

[kelev9]

hi! Question for service dog handlers!!

How did you go about talking to medical professionals about getting a service dog, mainly for owner training one? (I assume that the process would be different if you're getting an SD from a program). Did you talk to a medical professional at all? I know you can't be "prescribed" a service dog but was there anything that medical professionals did on their end? (write you a doctors note, put something in your file about getting a service dog, etc) I've been talking to my therapist about getting a psychiatric SD for awhile now but would it be worth talking to a psychiatrist or a general care doctor about it as well? This is super duper preliminary/just the beginning of the process but I haven't found a lot of resources about this part. Any other help/advice about this is super appreciated!

[daily-hanamura]

[fidgetspringer]

My disservice dog can also be helpful

[felixcosm]

Everytime someone's like "fuck Eagle" or "fuck that guy!" I'm like well if you insist

[fayeandknight]

More find the keys practice.