That's Not a Real Service Dog!

I never thought this would happen to me!

There are two things every service dog handler will face during almost any outing into the public: discrimination and fraud.  These two things together make it hard for people who really need a service dog when they are out.  The general public knows little about service dogs and the law that provides their protection and privilege.  Then there are some that know just enough to scam the system which is a double whammy.  

      "I honestly didn't expect to have any

           problems with going places with my 

service dog but they were there from

the outset."

As a preface, in every instance that I will describe, Rambo is dressed with his vest and Halti.  This is not to mention that, at least to the knowing eye, he behaves like a service dog in public.  That is to say, his behavior in public is really quite good.  He often exhibits better behavior in public than the children we encounter.

The foremost discrimination issue that I have run across is that most employers, including many large companies and corporations, fail miserably at training their employees about the Americans with Disabilities Act (ADA).  This becomes glaringly obvious when I try to enter a restaurant or check into a hotel with Rambo at my side.  Far too often, as soon as Rambo and I walk through the door, I see the confused look come across the people that work there.  Sometimes I get dirty looks right from the start.  I understand now that these people simply don't know any better and I blame their employer as ultimately the responsibility to follow the ADA in their establishment falls firmly in their lap.  

My understanding of discrimination and how to deal with it didn't come easy or fast.  I honestly didn't expect to have any problems with going places with my service dog but they were there from the outset.  I was forced to learn how to handle these situations or I was going to have to avoid them and avoidance wasn't a choice.  I had never experienced honest-to-goodness discrimination before I started going out in public with Rambo.  It has given me a greater appreciation of what every disabled person in this country experiences.  Now I understand the protests I see on the news when someone is discriminated against.  Its an ugly, helpless feeling that triggers anger, sadness and self doubt.  No one should ever have to feel like that simply because of who they are but it is a commonplace occurrence every minute of every day.

I'm not going to get into the intricacies of the ADA in this post.  I will explore that in greater detail at a later time.   For now, I just want to give you some examples of the situations that I have encountered and how I have dealt with them.  You may find yourself in similar situation and maybe you will find some of the things that I have done helpful for you (but I am a sarcastic, take-no-guff kind of person and my responses aren't always "polite.").   Some of these examples will be rather short and I will supply only with what was said to me and my response.  While these are all very frustrating, sometimes they can be quite funny as well.  (I'm looking at you, TSA!)  To balance things out I will include a couple of situations that really demonstrate what a properly trained, well behaved service dog can pull off in public.

The most common situation in which discrimination occurs are in restaurants.  I read news stories all the time about how someone with a legitimate service dog was denied service or even kicked out of a restaurant simply because the employee didn't know any better.  While I'm on the subject of restaurants, let me stop and ask this question:  what is it about the people in this country that they get instantly upset when they see a dog enter a restaurant?  They give me the impression that the simple presence of a dog is somehow unsanitary and dog hairs will somehow waft up from the floor and across the restaurant to land on their plate.  The ASPCA estimates that 44 percent of all American homes have a dog.  Despite a dog that goes into their kitchen, dining room and living room these people somehow manage to survive the presence of a dog.  In Europe, well behaved dogs are welcome at restaurants and no one even notices.  Only in America does this sort of nonsensical thinking become a large part of what fuels service dog discrimination in restaurants.  

One summer afternoon I drove to the Oregon coast to let Rambo play on the beach.  Afterwards I headed over to my favorite brewery to have lunch and see what might be good on tap.  To enter the restaurant, I have to go through a shop on the lower level where the sales clerk often acts as the host/hostess for the restaurant above.  On our first trip up the stairs I had no problem.  The waiter that met me upstairs wasn't sure of what to do so he asked the bartender.  One look at Rambo and he told the waiter to seat me anywhere I wanted.  Easy enough.  

After lunch I took Rambo out for a potty break with the intention of returning to our seat so I could enjoy one more beer.  Upon our return, as we started to climb the stairs, the girl behind the cash register loudly proclaimed that "NO DOGS ARE ALLOWED UPSTAIRS!"  This caused everyone else in the shop to instantly become quiet and turn to stare at the brazen jerk taking his pet up to the restaurant.  I politely told the girl that Rambo is my service dog and that we are going back up to enjoy the libations.  I took one step and she declared, "THAT'S ONLY FOR PEOPLE WITH PHYSICAL DISABILITIES!"  Oh boy. 

I wasn't in the mood to do her boss' job and train her on the ADA so I simply told her that I am going back upstairs to my table and if she had a problem with it that she should call her supervisor.  That's not the best example of being a good ambassador but sometimes I just want to get on with what I was doing.  I figured if she did call a supervisor perhaps at that point some training might get done.  I have returned to this brewery many times since and have never had another issue.

"That's not a real service dog."

Only a few months ago I had the unfortunate opportunity to go the my local VA hospital emergency room for excruciating pain that was running down from my neck to the tips of my fingers in my right arm.  The pain was substantial enough to keep me from sleeping more than a couple of hours for two nights straight.  Once I got to the ER and got checked in I was eventually called into a room just off the waiting room to get my vitals taken.  Once we were inside, Rambo noticed someone in the adjacent room who just happened to be handling some sort of bag made of cellophane.  The cellophane noise gets Rambo's attention because its the same noise he hears when I go for the treat bag.  I told Rambo to sit but his attention was on the sound of munchies.  So I tapped him gently on the nose and told him to sit again.  He took his time due to his distracted state to actually sit down but he did what was asked.  The nurse had the gall to look me square in the eyes and say, "That's not a real service dog."

"Excuse me?"

"That's not a service dog.  When a service dog is told to sit, he does it 'zip' right away."

My eyes went wide with astonishment!  This was a new one to me.  So I asked, "are you a trainer?"

"No." she said.  But I know people who do train dogs and I've seen service dogs sit when they are told."

"Okay" I responded.  "Since you're not a trainer and I'm not a nurse, how about you stop accusing my dog of not being an exceptionally well trained and ADI accredited service dog and I won't question your credentials to be a hack nurse?"

That was the end of that fun.

     "I can't let you stay here!  What if someone 

comes in that is allergic to dogs?"

When it comes to staying at hotels with a service dog, the best advice I can give is the nicer the hotel, the better trained the staff.  If I stay at a cheap hotel I always seem to get what I paid for, as you will read.

If I told every hotel story I have there would never be an end to this.  So I will give you the ultra-abridge version of multiple stories in somewhat of a rapid fire succession.

Checking into a San Diego hotel, the clerk asked me for Rambo's papers.  I told her that is he not a pure bred and doesn't have any papers.  She said if he doesn't have papers she will charge me a pet fee.  I told her that was against the law but she persisted.  So I gave her Rambo's JLAD ID card and told her that is all the "papers" he has.  Good enough.

"Does your dog have I.D.?"
He's not old enough to drive or drink so he doesn't have one yet.  (I showed him Rambo's JLAD card after getting in the jab.)

"Is that a service dog?"
Yes, he is my service dog.
(Leaning over the tall counter) "Ok, he has vest on.  It can't be a service dog if it doesn't have a vest."

"I'm sorry sir, we don't allow pets here."
Oh, that's good to know. So there won't be any pets distracting my service dog.
"Oh, its a service dog?  Can you make him do a trick?"
Oh for fu......Rambo, wave bye bye to the nice man behind the counter.

"I did not know you were bringing a service dog.  I can't rent you the third floor suite you have reserved.  I have to put you on the first floor in the pet area."
No, you are giving me the room I reserved and as far as you are concerned, this dog is invisible.
"I'll have to call my boss."
Tell your boss I know lawyers.

"I'm going to have to charge you a pet cleaning fee."

"Can you go in and out the back entrance with your dog, please?"

"I can't let you stay here!  What if someone comes in that is allergic to dogs?"

"We don't let dogs in training stay here.  Only real service dogs."

"Is your service dog housebroken?"

"Why do you have a service dog?  You aren't blind!"

"Are you here to visit a hotel guest?  We have waiting outside on the patio."

So much for the industry of hospitality.

This is just the beginning of the misadventures Rambo and I have had to endure.  In my next post I will regale you with tales of the fun we've had at restaurants and shops all over the country.  I will end that with our encounters with obviously counterfeit service dogs and their handlers which is a subject I tackle quite loudly!