Assistance dog on the train: Bhodi helped me during a seizure

Some events linger longer than you would like.

Not because you don't want to let them go, but because they affect you. Because they touch you at a moment when you are completely vulnerable.

Recently, I was traveling by train with Bhodi to pick up my son from school. A journey like we often make. Bhodi beside me, as always. My assistance dog, my buddy, and to me so much more than just a dog.

Until things went wrong.

Bhodi indicated that an insult was coming on for me. I know his signals. I know what he is trying to tell me.

Not much later came the insult.

I barely, if at all, notice exactly what is happening around me during such a moment. At that time, I am incredibly vulnerable and cannot stand up for myself. I have to trust that Bhodi does what he has learned and that the people around me handle the situation with at least some respect.

Bhodi did what he always does.

He stayed with me. He licked me and pushed his snout against me to make contact with me and pull me back.

Slowly I came to.

And one of the first things I saw was phones.

There was a group of eight young people sitting with me on the train. They were filming me. They were laughing, talking about me, and egging each other on.

I can hardly explain what that does to you at a moment like that.

You are just coming to from a seizure. Your head and body still need to recover. You are trying to understand where you are and what is happening around you.

And then you see eight people who apparently find your most vulnerable moment funny.

I felt lonely, powerless, and sad.

But above all, enormously intimidated.

Eight people opposite me.

At that moment, I couldn't just stand up, open my mouth, and defend myself. I couldn't just walk away from the situation. My body had just literally let me down, and I was still recovering.

And meanwhile, they kept laughing and filming.

Perhaps people don't realize what filming at such a moment can do to someone.

For them, it might be a video of a few seconds.

For me, it was a moment when I had no control over my own body and subsequently also lost control over who was capturing that moment and where those images might end up.

That makes you feel incredibly small.

Meanwhile, Bhodi noticed that I was not doing well. He felt my tension and saw that these people were not keeping their distance.

Eventually, he started barking.

My Bhodi, who has normally been trained to do his work quietly and as inconspicuously as possible, made himself heard.

At the moment I couldn't do that myself.

Of course, he cannot understand what happens on those phones the way we humans do. But he did notice that I was not doing well and that the situation around us was causing more and more tension.

And he did what he could.

He stayed with me.

That perhaps touches me the most when I think back on it.

For while eight people looked at me and laughed, Bhodi kept busy with *me*.

His attention remained with the person for whom he was there.

And at the same time, something happened that made me incredibly sad: initially, no one did anything.

No one told them to stop filming.

No one asked if I was doing.

No one provided peace or space.

It was only when Bhodi started barking that a young female conductor came over to us. She asked what was going on and why Bhodi was barking like that.

From that moment on, the situation changed.

She saw that something was wrong.

She listened.

And she acted.

She made sure the group was stopped, so that I could get off safely at my station without them being able to come after me.

How grateful I was to her.

Fortunately, in the meantime, I also had someone on the phone via my earbuds. She could hear everything that was happening and could have called for help if necessary. Just the idea that there was at least one person who heard what was happening gave me back a small sense of safety.

Once outside the train, I could continue towards my son's school.

The young people were put off the train one stop later.

But for me, it wasn't simply over when the train doors closed behind me.

The feeling remained.

The powerlessness.

The grief.

The intimidation.

And especially the thought that images of a moment when I was totally vulnerable might be on strangers' phones.

Last week, I happened to run into the same young female conductor again.

I told her what that event had done to me and how important her performance had been to me.

For fortunately, opposite the behavior of that group stood someone who did look, listen, and act.

People like them deserve to be mentioned too.

And of course, there was Bhodi.

My special boy.

People see a Golden Retriever with a blue service dog vest. They see a dog walking next to me on the train.

But I see the one to whom I literally entrust my safety in my most vulnerable moments.

Bhodi warns me when an insult is coming.

He stays with me when my body takes over.

He helps me come back.

He senses changes in me that other people often don't even see yet.

And that day he did something else.

When I felt small, sad, and powerless, he made himself heard.

When I could not use my voice, he made his heard.

When others pointed their phones at me, Bhodi kept his attention focused on me.

That is why he is not 'just a dog that is allowed on the train'.

He is my assistance dog.

My safety.

My support.

My buddy.

My Bhodi. 💙

And to everyone who ever sees someone become unwell on a train, in a shop, on the street, or anywhere else:

Please, do not take out your phone to film.

Someone having an insult is not entertainment. Someone getting sick in public is not a funny video for your phone. And a service dog working hard to help its owner at such a moment is not part of a performance.

You don't have to be a hero. You don't even have to know exactly what to do.

But you can leave your phone in your pocket.

Give space.

Ask if anyone needs help.

Call in an employee when necessary.

And above all, ensure peace and space so that an assistance dog can continue doing its work.

Don't turn someone's vulnerability into entertainment.

Sometimes humanity is nothing complicated.

Sometimes it simply means putting your phone away and standing next to someone.

Just like Bhodi stayed standing next to me. 💙

Let's all learn something from that.

🎵 This event became a song

Some events don't just stay in your head. This train ride and the accompanying feeling of powerlessness served as the inspiration for a song by SuperheldenHulphond®.

In the song 'Wat niemand doet', not only the event is reflected, but especially what such a moment does to you — and how important it can be when someone, human or assistance dog, stands by your side.

🎧 Listen to the song and discover the story behind the music.