Why I'm Writing This Blog

 Last week, my friend Pam and I went out to lunch at one my oldest haunts.  As per usual, I called ahead and reserved the farthest booth in the back corner by the the bar.  I said: "There will be two adults. And I'm bringing my Service Dog."  And everything was all hunky dory until the next day, when we arrived for our yummy lunch.

The greeter took one look at me carrying my Bleu Toy Poodle all dressed in his Medical Alert Service Dog vest and said: "I need to see your Papers."


The Chill ran down my spine. Usually, any person who asks me for Papers gets an Education about Aktion T-4, Nazi Germany, and Disability Rights under the ADA; but my old haunt isn't the sort of place that discriminates.  I flashed my Southern Smile and asked to see her Manager.

"Wait there," she said, nastily. She pointed to a row of chairs normally reserved for folks waiting for To Go Orders.

"I think some idiot pawned off their pet dog off as a Service Animal since the last time we were here," I told Jane, when the greeter was out of earshot.  

The Manager came jogging from the back.  He took one look at me and all the color drained from his face. "I'm so sorry, Ms. Rigney!" he said. "I saw your name on the reservation list! Right this way, please!"

Once we were all seated, and Joey was safely on my lap, I asked the Manager what happened.

"We had a dog that wasn't a Service Dog brought in," he said, quietly. " It growled and barked and misbehaved. There were complaints."

"I figured that's what happened," I replied. "You didn't know what you could legally do, did you?"

"No."

I keep a laminated copy of the ADA law as it applies to Service Dogs zipped inside my dog's vest. It comes in handy at least ten times a week -- even when we're out and about locally.  I unzipped Joey's vest, got out my copy of the ADA as it applies to Service Animals and handed it to The Manager.  "Please make a copy of this," I told him.  "And know that if even a Service Animal isn't under control and is barking or growling, you have the right to ask its owner to leave."

The Manager looked relieved.  He the law in its laminated entirety -- and he asked questions!

I answered them; and then, I explained about Nazi Germany and Aktion T-4 -- and why it's illegal to demand Papers or any proof of disability. 

 We parted enriched friends on both sides.

Pam and I ordered lunch.

It was excellent. 

And Joey slept on my lap, until it was time to alert me to take my medicine. He alerted and went right back to sleep. (I'd fed him before we left the house. He was Digesting.)

As Pam and I were exiting the restaurant,  I heard some idiot man say: "Hey, miss. Where did you get that vest? I want to bring my dog in, too!"

I ignored his remark. 

I shouldn't have. 

I'm a person with multiple invisible disabilities.  Having Joey, my Service Dog, makes me visible in a profound way.

That's why I'm writing this blog.