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As my aunt’s health deteriorated with no clear diagnosis, her dog became her lifeline. I remember her despair, her memory fading, and her handwriting showing signs of serious illness. Her dog, whom my son fondly called “the only good dog,” was her constant companion. She worried about him whenever we had to leave and fretted over who would care for him if she couldn’t.
Her dog was truly remarkable, well-behaved, and would sit on the couch, gazing out the window whenever she was away. As her condition worsened, she found it increasingly difficult to leave him behind. To ease her mind, I registered Scooby as a service dog and began taking him everywhere with us. I promised to take care of Scooby if anything happened to her. At her funeral, Scooby sat in the front row, behaving impeccably, even better than some people.
In the weeks that followed, I faced my own health challenges, including ocular migraines and the macular degeneration gene. I realized Scooby could be an invaluable service dog for me. He quickly learned commands and tasks, from simple ones like “in” and “out” to more complex ones like “find the car.” We’re even working on “find my husband” for when I need extra help.
I’ve been mindful about where I take Scooby, avoiding places like restaurants when I’m with my family. While I’m confident he would behave, he would likely spend the entire meal staring at me, hoping for food. I often debate whether to bring him to other places, weighing the effort it might take and whether I feel up to explaining why I have a service dog.
As a member of the DAR, I thought it best to inform them that I would be bringing Scooby to meetings. However, I was told that “pets are not allowed” and that they didn’t believe I needed him, despite explaining his training and my disability. This response was disheartening, especially since Scooby still suffers from separation anxiety, making it rare for me to leave him at home. I’ve even avoided grocery stores to avoid the hassle of explaining.
The more time I spend with Scooby, the more I realize his capabilities extend beyond disability-related tasks. He alerts me when it’s time to lock up my chickens at night, lets me know when someone is at the door (our doorbell is unreliable), and even sits by the…
