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When I came home from Afghanistan, I was feeling very alone, so I decided to go to the animal shelter and see if I could find a dog. 

I was looking through everything and not finding a dog that I liked, so I went to look at cats and found this little chihuahua mix in with a cat. I asked to look at the puppy, and when I pulled her out, a little marking on her chest caught my attention.

That little marking looked like the Batman symbol. When I told them I wanted the puppy, I was informed that the cat and dog were a pair and I would have to take both. I happily agreed and became the proud mom of two pets.

As time went on, the effects of war started to show, and Batman was always by my side. It was almost a year before I finally got help, and all that time, my little puppy was by my side. She was picking up on the chemical changes in my body that would cause me to black out, and she started letting me know by playfully attacking my feet.

My psychiatrist started to understand how much she was helping me and sought out the resources to have her trained to be a service dog for my PTSD. It wasn't long before he found out how to get her certified, helped me through the process, and prescribed her to me so the VA would help with her cost.

Fast forward to today, and she is fully certified and loves getting to go everywhere. It has been rough, though, because a lot of people don't understand how such a small dog can be a service animal.