He is a pure Olde English Bulldogge and was only a day old when I first met him. I suddenly could think nothing but of this little innocent baby that needed someone. When he was eight weeks old I took him home, and it all changed from there. He was my life, and he needed me almost more than I needed me. I took pride in training and caring for him. I had a reason to get up in the morning.
My therapist had noticed a significant change in my prognosis since Gimli came into my life. She then gave me a memorandum for Gimli to be my emotional support animal, stating he was detrimental to my well-being. The injuries I had sustained were too much for the Army to retain me, so they started medical discharge paperwork and sent me from Germany to Washington to complete my discharge.
I had called my incoming unit two times to verify the special circumstances would allow Gimli and me to stay together or that I would be authorized housing allowance to accommodate us, and both times I was told “yes, without a doubt.” Well, they were wrong. I came to Washington with my 80-lb., 1.5-year-old Bulldogge, and they were confused. I quickly submitted my doctor’s note to basically ask permission to receive funds to house my dog and me. That was in early July of last year.