There’s so much talk lately about people claiming their pets are service dogs and while I know that lots of service dog users, including myself, have disabilities which are not apparent to the casual, or even the staring, observer, still it seems to me that many of the dogs I see who are in places where pets are not permitted are not service dogs at all. At least that’s what I discern from the behavior of the dogs and their humans.
So here are some new ways to tell if a service dog team is legitimate.
You ask to pet the (service) dog and the dog’s human either pretends not to hear you or, instead of speaking, blocks your reaching hand with her hand.
You speak to a companion about the (service) dog and handler in a loud voice that everyone within a mile can hear, assuming the person you are talking about cannot, for some reason, also hear you and that very person starts cursing under her breath about your rudeness and stupidity and wonders out loud where the hell you were brought up where no manners at all were taught.
You stare first at the dog, then at the handler’s eyes, then back at the dog, then back at the handler’s eyes and the person fails to thank you for the free eye check-up.
You very politely ask the person what her disability is and she refuses, simply refuses, to tell you the most painful and personal thing in her whole life, despite the fact that you are a total stranger and that it’s none of your fucking business.
You pet someone’s (service) dog while their attention is elsewhere and when they catch, excuse me, when they notice what you are doing, they appear to be very very very annoyed. Excuse me again but can you imagine how many times a day people want to pet this working dog?
And can you imagine what it does to a working dog to be distracted dozens and dozens of times a day?
So, in all of the above cases, the dog and human team have passed the “Is that a real service dog?” test with flying colors.
Now here’s a little story I may have told you before. I am at the gym where I swim, where my service dog waits for me at the foot of the pool, and I meet a lovely woman who does not ask me what my disability is and with whom I have a nice, normal conversation. And then she tells me that there’s another woman who comes to the gym with a service dog. I think I would have heard, but you never know, so I ask her what the dog looks like and she says, Just like yours. And then she says, But that woman is not friendly, the way you are.
So, not always, but usually, when Sky and I leave home to go out into the greater world beyond, we are, by and large, two bitches. And if you walked in my shoes (9 narrow) or her cape (small), you’d understand why. Or you could just think about the above. That would work, too. As always, thanks for listening.