Itzl is a confident, secure dog. He knows he has the right to be with me wherever I go, and the right to act as my alarm, my alert, my sirens. He's not an aggressive dog, but he is a hyper-alert dog, anal-retentive, and defintely a Type-A personality that needs to be directed. If he doesn't have a job to do, he gets nervous and fussy.
If he hadn't had decades of people and previous service dogs forging the way for him, he'd probably have become a yappy, touchy, over-protective pocket dog.
OK, maybe he wouldn't be so bad, but that is what generally happens to little dogs who don't get the right training and don't have a job to do. Little dogs, like big dogs, want to be useful.
Itzl recognizing a sound while on my desk just prior to alerting on it.
Itzl is fortunate to live in an era when service dogs are allowed everywhere their handler goes. And I'm fortunate to live in a country that recognizes that many people with disabilities don't have to live out of the public pocket if we just have a little help.
Service animals are responsisble for helping many people maintain employment, which means that instead of taking taxes, they pay them.
I know I do a better job because I have the constant, unswerving support of Itzl. He alerts me to portions of my job that don't have flashing light indicators, and warns me of alarms and drills and visitors. Because of him, I can work clear up to maximum retirement age, and I can work on my hobbies and mingle socially without making too many faux pas. With any luck, he will live that long since I happen to be chronologically up in years.
The work of the people who formed the Seeing Eye Guide Dogs in 1929 formed the base for all future service animals. They set the standard, and Itzl and I, we owe them our freedom.
Itzl alerting on a visitor's cell phone ringing. His next step would be to walk to me at the other end of my desk and headbutt my arm, then go back to point at the sound. I don't have a picture of that step.
Hearing dogs didn't exist formally until the mid-1970's. The original organization still exists and still provides trained hearing ear dogs. They have a preference for labs and retrievers, as do many organizations that train service dogs. The trend of using smaller dogs for hearing assistance is less than a decade old, which makes Itzl cutting edge, even though hearing dogs have been around for nearly 40 years.
With all that history behind service animals, you'd think access was a given, but it's not. American corporate society is terribly, terribly anti-animal, plastering their entrances with "no pets" and employees trained to challenge anyone accompanied by an animal, sometimes to the point of loud and humiliating eviction - and this in spite of the laws and the education. A gentleman responded to an earlier diary by sharing his exclusion from public spaces with his service dog, even with papers from his doctor and stating his dog was a service dog. I don't know all the details of his ordeal, just the little bit he posted, but his experience isn't unique.
Itzl and I have faced our share of evictions and harassment for being together.
When Itzl and I were first partnered, I was really shy about asserting our rights. We stayed home a lot. When someone challenged us, we'd leave and it didn't matter how much I needed that milk or those shoes. But we had rights, legal ones, that gave both of us access to all the places I needed to go so I found ways to face this sort of challenge. Itzl was all, "Dude, I'm with her" and didn't stress over it. That was my job.
The vet gave Itzl a "service dog" tag to wear on his collar. A dog trainer friend pointed me to a service dog tag company and I ordered Itzl a set. Another friend with a service animal directed me to these ADA cards to hand out and I ordered a pack. On my own, I sought out sites that sold patches and vests and bought some for him.
I know the law says we don't need to show IDs or certifications or proof. But they make it so much easier. When Itzl gives me the "Uh oh, we've been made" signal - he rolls his eyes up at me, looks in the direction of whoever is approaching, tugs out his ID, and sighs. Sometimes, if the person approaching is observant, they see this and laugh and walk on without confronting us. If they don't pay attention, I'll have to take the ID from Itzl and present it, or take one of the ADA cards out to show them. That usually takes care of things, except in truly over-zealous places where each and every employee seems bound and determined to challenege our presence.
That's when I write letters. I explain I am partnered with a service dog, and describe the incident in detail. I tell them I'd like to use their business and request that they train their employees to comply with the ADA Title III laws and regulations.
I've never had to go any further, but there are more steps I could take, thanks to the ADA.
I do all the worry and all the work so that Itzl can do his job. All he has to do is alert on sounds and smugly say to everyone we meet, "I'm with her." And so he is.