# The Raw Truth: My Journey with Coraline from Punk Rock Therapist to Service Dog Handler

## How Coraline Clover Became a Badass Service Dog

Let’s just get this out in the open: I am a HUGE fan of having your intuitive healing animal support you. As many of you who’ve been to my office know, #CoralineClover is a freaking miracle worker, transforming the energy of therapy sessions with her healing presence. And yeah, she’s damn good at it.

We kicked off her training when she was just 15 weeks old, and this little powerhouse graduated service dog school in less than a week—crushing her test with flying colors. Still being a puppy meant navigating that wild energy while I learned to be consistent with what I asked of her. It’s a 24/7 commitment, no bullshit. But holy hell, the way she changed the vibe of working in my office made it all worth it.

I got my first real glimpse of her natural abilities when I nearly ate shit face-first during a morning walk. I yelped, and Coraline immediately jumped on my leg – this wasn’t random puppy behavior, but her actual trained alert response. She was flagging my fear and letting me know I needed assistance. She made me sit the hell down and just “be” with her until my heart settled. Mind. Blown.

During her training, she was taught to get my attention with absolute tenacity – which, let’s be honest, can be annoying as fuck until I realize she’s just DOING HER JOB! That persistent leg jumping? That’s her way of saying, “Hey human, you’re freaking out and I need you to pay attention to that.” It took me a while to recognize these weren’t behavioral issues but her service training in action. Now when she jumps on my leg, I know to check in with myself because she’s picking up something I haven’t even registered yet.

## When the Therapist Needs Therapy: How Coraline Called Me on My Own Crap

Here’s the messy truth nobody talks about: being a therapist who goes to therapy can trigger you on so many fucking levels. Being that raw and exposed is brutal sometimes.

During Coraline’s training, having her with me constantly showed me something I wasn’t expecting—she was reading my nervous system like an open book, alerting to my PTSD triggers and dysregulation before I even recognized them myself. That persistent leg jumping became my early warning system.

I started off just wanting to protect her from other people’s shenanigans, but plot twist: this led me to stop letting myself get sucked into those same toxic situations. While advocating for her boundaries, I had this lightbulb moment that I wasn’t defending my own.

The exact moment it clicked was during a complete Christmas Eve clusterfuck. I was already sitting in a church avoiding communion and forced to give “peace hugs” to strangers who hate queer people (news flash—that’s me!). All to make my father happy. Then we headed to PF Chang’s for this “special dinner” my father had reservations for. He was so stressed about being on time, he rushed everyone out of church—fine by me! I honestly wanted to meet them afterward, but he all but begged me to go along with this to not upset his wife.

So we get to the restaurant and even though we have reservations, it’s a damn 1.5-hour wait. I’m fucking starving (so is everyone else in this hangry party of 7). I immediately check Lyft prices—it’s Christmas Eve, so it’s gonna be at least a hundo to escape.

We eventually get seated, and guess who ends up eating the most? Coraline, scarfing down all the nasty shit under the table. Bullshit after bullshit happens: no orders, wrong orders, bad orders, you name it. After the shitty appetizer saga, I had this moment of clarity—I can’t keep my dog trapped under a table, probably with a tummy ache by now, while I’m eating crap food myself. (BTW, service animals are trained to quietly sit at your feet under the table at restaurants, which she was doing like a champ despite the chaos).

I went outside, looked up how long it would take to get a Lyft, and booked it. 45 minutes and $125 minimum—fucking worth it! I got to my father’s house only about 45 minutes before they did, but I had a pleasant ride home. By wanting to take care of Coraline in that moment, I made myself take care of ME. That changed EVERYTHING going forward. The epiphany hit hard: if she was in an uncomfortable setting, I probably was too. My boundary-setting skills skyrocketed (they were pretty good already, but now they’re epic).

Coraline basically tricked me into leveling up my boundary game, which has been an unexpected gift that keeps on giving. Who knew a dog would be the one to call me on my own bullshit?

## Service Animals vs. Emotional Support Animals: Know Your Rights, Dammit

My original plan was just to train Coraline as an emotional support animal (ESA), but I quickly discovered ESAs don’t get the same rights as service animals.

**Service Animals:**

– Have to be legit trained professionals

– Must pass actual certification tests

– Get registered nationally (recommended)

– Handlers are protected by national and Texas laws that have actual teeth

– Can’t be kicked out of places unless they’re being disruptive AF or not doing their job

**Emotional Support Animals:**

– Don’t need specialized training (and it shows)

– Have protection that’s minimal at best (basically just housing, and they can interrogate you endlessly)

The decision was a no-brainer—I wanted Coraline to be well-trained because I didn’t want the hassle of a poorly-behaved dog. The service animal certification gave us structure and actual legal backup when we needed it.

## Training: The Non-Negotiable Game-Changer

I took Coraline to K9 Kommand where Terry was a straight-up dream. No judgment (well, maybe a little) when he pointed out I was letting this tiny dog boss me around—despite the fact that I’d read about 20 freaking books on training before getting her. In hindsight, I just needed the potty training book and Terry at 15 weeks. Lesson learned.

For anyone wondering if they should get their dog better trained, the answer is ALWAYS yes, full stop. If you want an ESA or service animal, here’s the real deal:

– For ESAs: Get some damn manners training at minimum

– For Service Animals: Commit to intensive training or don’t bother

The training transformed my relationship with Coraline, and I know beyond any doubt she’s a kickass service animal because we both committed to this process from day one.

## Pro Tips & Resources for the Rebellious

**Hack the System:** I highly recommend getting a “Service Animal in Training” vest for your beginning days or when you’re retraining. That word “training” buys you a ton of grace. When Coraline and I started traveling again post-COVID, we busted out that training vest so people would give us a wide berth and not give me the side-eye if she acted slightly out of line.

**Know Your Rights:**

– [Texas laws protecting you and your service animal]

– [Rights and responsibilities of service animals and emotional support dogs]

My practice offers psychological assessments for those needing professional documentation for a service animal. And yes, I actually know what the hell I’m talking about because I’ve lived it.