Being in public with a service dog is a constant struggle. Although service animals, according to the Americans with Disabilities Act (ADA), are defined as dogs that are individually trained to do work or perform tasks for people with disabilities, handlers often get a lot more harassment than expected for using a tool to make their lives easier.
Tonight, I took my service dog, Violet, to dinner with two friends at a fairly crowded restaurant. Although I know that Violet herself is comfortable with this particular situation, I was worried (as I always am) about the reactions from others. After my own "series of unfortunate events" with her, I decided that I needed to write this article and get the word out about service animal etiquette.
5:40pm
We arrive at the restaurant, and wait at the hostess station to be seated. We are told that it will be just a couple of minutes before a table becomes available. A man comes up the stairs behind me, and pauses to pet Violet, who was seated at my side. At the death glare of my roommate, he hurriedly moves on.
5:44pm
We are seated at our table, and have barely ordered our drinks before I am approached by a man from a few tables away. Violet is laying at my side, slightly under the table and out of the way of the waitstaff.
"What kind of service dog is that?"
"I'm sorry?" I reply, a bit stunned. Did I hear that right?
"What kind of service dog is that?" he repeated impatiently, as if he was entitled to an answer to this very personal question. To appease him, I gave a short answer.
"She's a psychological service dog." He squints a little bit, as if he doesn't believe me.
"Huh." There is a pause, and I can see that he thinks I am faking my disability and/or need for a service animal. He sticks his hand down in front of Violet's face, and she lifts her head to sniff it. Since we're at a burger restaurant, I would be willing to bet my next paycheck that his fingers smelled like meat, and she was thinking that she might get something from this man. He looks at me triumphantly, as if getting my dog to break was his own personal goal for the evening.
"She's still a puppy," he assumes. My companions are silent, watching with raised eyebrows.
"She's three."
"Huh. It must be nice to be able to take her everywhere." The scathing comment takes me by surprise, and he leaves before I have the chance to respond. My friends and I exchange "WTF" glances and rolled eyes resuming our conversation.
5:47pm
It took less than a minute for me to notice that the man had gone back to his dinner companions and begun to gossip about me. They don't bother to be subtle about it: he openly points us out, and his friends turn to stare non-discreetly.
6:07pm
One of the waitresses steps on my dog's tail. She jumps to her feet. Cue more stares and accusing glances. She is clearly not well-trained, if she gets to her feet when she's startled by someone.
6:31pm
The man leaves with his group, giving me one last disdainful look.
7:25pm
We leave the restaurant, and are relieved to escape the stares and whispers.
8:17pm
We make a stop at Ross before heading home for the night. While browsing the shoe department, I am approached by two girls, around the ages of five and eight. Shyly, they smile at me.
"I like your dog," the older one says. I thank her, and they leave. Nothing more, nothing less.
It is at this point in the day where I am completely awestruck at the differences between generations in regard to service animals. In my experience, children have always been far more respectful than adults (especially those over 40). In taking Violet out for the past year and a half, I have never had anyone under the age of eighteen pet my dog, or even talk to her without asking. In that same year and half, I have lost track of the number of times an adult has stopped to pet her as if she were there for their personal enjoyment. In hopes of improving the lives of service dog handlers, I have included a few tips for interacting with service dogs and their humans.
1. Don't ask about their disability.
My medical history is private. Please don't ask me about my diagnosis or try to guess why I have a service dog. Even if my disability isn't something you can see immediately, it's really none of your business. Questions like "what kind of service dog is that?" and "what does he/she do?" shouldn't be asked. If you wouldn't ask a person in a wheelchair why they use one, you shouldn't ask someone why they use a service dog. If you would ask that first question, maybe you should rethink your manners.
2. Don't pet/touch/talk to/yell at/offer food to/etc.
This goes for any dog--not just service animals. When encountering a dog you've never met, you should never pet it without the owner's permission. The dog could be aggressive or shy, and you don't want to be on the wrong side of a dog's teeth.
As for service dogs: they have a job to do. We don't have them just so we can bring them wherever we go. For some handlers, their dog is literally their lifeline, and alerts them to medical emergencies such as low blood sugar or impending seizures. When they are distracted, they aren't focusing on their job, which is sometimes keeping people alive.
3. If she's out with her handler, she's working.
I promise. She wouldn't be wearing a vest if she didn't have a job to do. When she's out, she needs to be left alone to do her job. Even if it doesn't "look like" she's working, I promise, she is.
4. My service dog is my medical equipment.
If you wouldn't go up and start pushing someone's wheelchair or fiddling with their oxygen tank, you shouldn't be messing with my dog.
5. "I wish I had a service dog."
No.
This may seem like a casual enough statement. Sure, of course you wish that your dog could go everywhere with you. But trust me, I would rather not need one. By saying this, you're basically saying "I wish whatever is wrong with you was wrong with me, too". Having a service dog is so much more work than you think it is. Although she makes my life a thousand times easier, I would much rather not need one.
The next time you see a service dog out and about, feel free to admire from afar, but please don't touch, talk to, or in any way distract them from the job that they're doing. Our lives are busy and difficult enough without out medical equipment being tampered with. Don't be one of those people that we have to write articles about.
