Acceptance
At some point in every service dog handler’s life there will come a moment when a friend or family member will say, “Do you have to bring the dog?” or, “Are you sure it’s a good idea to have a dog in this situation?” Not only does this hurt, it can be very disheartening.
Service dog law only protects my right to bring my service dog with me in places where the public is generally accepted. It does not require Aunt Betty to let me bring my service dog to her wedding. It cannot force my best friend to accommodate my service dog when she wants to have me over for drinks. And honestly, even if the law had influence in those situations, I wouldn’t even bring it up, because I wouldn’t want to force my company on my friend and relatives if they don’t want me around.
There are very few reasons why I would forgo the assistance of my service dog. When my dog is sick or injured I will not take him out until he is healed enough to do his work comfortably and with minimal coddling. I will not take my service dog into a situation where there is a high probability that he will be harmed. And sometimes, when I’m in a rush, I leave him in the car when I go into the gas station to pay for my gas. More often than not, if I make the decision that my service dog will not be going out, I stay home too. When I do choose to go somewhere without him, I have a plan in place to ensure that if something happens, I have what I need to take care of myself. I keep my keys on me, park my car in a place where I won’t be blocked in, and I check and double check that I have the ability to leave at the drop of a hat if I want to. I become hyper vigilant and usually annoy the crap out of my boyfriend who comes along as a service human. I also fall a lot.
Every service dog handler will be different in this regard. Some people will not be separated from their service dog for any reason, while other handlers will only bring their service dog with them in certain instances. Each handler also has her own feelings about what constitutes a safe environment for her dog to work in. This decision is based partially on the abilities of the service dog in question and partially on the judgment of the handler. For instance, I would feel perfectly confident bringing Gypsy to a Demolition Derby, but I would feel that is an unsafe environment for Billy. Alternatively, I feel perfectly comfortable handling Billy in thick crowds that I wouldn’t bring Gypsy to, for fear that she would get stepped on.
This is a highly personal decision. It is just as personal to a disabled person as the choice to use a cane, forearm crutches or a wheelchair for a particular outing. So when a person questions my choice to bring or not bring my service dog with me, I am deeply hurt.
I am disabled. That is a fact that will never go away. I cannot separate myself from my disease/disability. A person can choose to accept me as I am, disability, service dog and all, or not. But that person cannot pick and choose the parts of me that he wants to include in his life. If he rejects my service dog, he is rejecting me.
If tomorrow all my problems were to disappear, if I was pain free, able to walk and run and pick things up without falling, if I could have a conversation with a scary person or feel able to turn my back on a room full of strangers, if I never experienced another panic attack again, if all these things were true and I was a normal person just like any other person in the world, I would happily leave my dogs behind at home. I would give Billy’s gear away to those that need it more than me, and find myself a job working with dogs again. It is a pain in the ass to always be tied to another living being, to never be able to go out and do something on a whim. I always have to consider Billy in everything I do. Is it too hot, too cold? Will I be asking too much of my dog to expect him to go to work with me, then to class, and then out to dinner with friends? Will he be able to maintain focus that long? Can I schedule a break for him? Am I being fair to my dog?
Sometimes a stranger will approach me and ask about service dogs and at some point say, “I wish I could bring my dog with me wherever I go.”
To which I can only respond, “I wish I didn’t have to.”
Service dog law only protects my right to bring my service dog with me in places where the public is generally accepted. It does not require Aunt Betty to let me bring my service dog to her wedding. It cannot force my best friend to accommodate my service dog when she wants to have me over for drinks. And honestly, even if the law had influence in those situations, I wouldn’t even bring it up, because I wouldn’t want to force my company on my friend and relatives if they don’t want me around.
There are very few reasons why I would forgo the assistance of my service dog. When my dog is sick or injured I will not take him out until he is healed enough to do his work comfortably and with minimal coddling. I will not take my service dog into a situation where there is a high probability that he will be harmed. And sometimes, when I’m in a rush, I leave him in the car when I go into the gas station to pay for my gas. More often than not, if I make the decision that my service dog will not be going out, I stay home too. When I do choose to go somewhere without him, I have a plan in place to ensure that if something happens, I have what I need to take care of myself. I keep my keys on me, park my car in a place where I won’t be blocked in, and I check and double check that I have the ability to leave at the drop of a hat if I want to. I become hyper vigilant and usually annoy the crap out of my boyfriend who comes along as a service human. I also fall a lot.
Every service dog handler will be different in this regard. Some people will not be separated from their service dog for any reason, while other handlers will only bring their service dog with them in certain instances. Each handler also has her own feelings about what constitutes a safe environment for her dog to work in. This decision is based partially on the abilities of the service dog in question and partially on the judgment of the handler. For instance, I would feel perfectly confident bringing Gypsy to a Demolition Derby, but I would feel that is an unsafe environment for Billy. Alternatively, I feel perfectly comfortable handling Billy in thick crowds that I wouldn’t bring Gypsy to, for fear that she would get stepped on.
This is a highly personal decision. It is just as personal to a disabled person as the choice to use a cane, forearm crutches or a wheelchair for a particular outing. So when a person questions my choice to bring or not bring my service dog with me, I am deeply hurt.
I am disabled. That is a fact that will never go away. I cannot separate myself from my disease/disability. A person can choose to accept me as I am, disability, service dog and all, or not. But that person cannot pick and choose the parts of me that he wants to include in his life. If he rejects my service dog, he is rejecting me.
If tomorrow all my problems were to disappear, if I was pain free, able to walk and run and pick things up without falling, if I could have a conversation with a scary person or feel able to turn my back on a room full of strangers, if I never experienced another panic attack again, if all these things were true and I was a normal person just like any other person in the world, I would happily leave my dogs behind at home. I would give Billy’s gear away to those that need it more than me, and find myself a job working with dogs again. It is a pain in the ass to always be tied to another living being, to never be able to go out and do something on a whim. I always have to consider Billy in everything I do. Is it too hot, too cold? Will I be asking too much of my dog to expect him to go to work with me, then to class, and then out to dinner with friends? Will he be able to maintain focus that long? Can I schedule a break for him? Am I being fair to my dog?
Sometimes a stranger will approach me and ask about service dogs and at some point say, “I wish I could bring my dog with me wherever I go.”
To which I can only respond, “I wish I didn’t have to.”