History

"Spooky Tree" photo by Lana Pinto

 I did it, or started it at least. I finally looked into the history of The Infamous Brown House. And it was FUN. I have seen it done on TV, but the reality was far more confusing and less conclusive than anything fictional. For starters, the inevitable Startling Revelation Involving Microfiche was not part of my actual experience. It began with perusing listings to find the picture and subsequently the address of the house. I recognized it right away, a feeling in my gut more than anything. From there it was a search though enormous book after enormous book; each getting older and harder to read than the one before it. I learned that the neighbor's outrageous account of the house's history was not only feasible, but likely. I followed up my trip to the town clerk with a visit to the public library. I searched the few historical tomes available; black and white and sepia windows on a past I could scarcely imagine. Though there were many interesting anecdotes about the area, none were specific enough to be useful. I learned that yes, the original structure was indeed built in the late 1800's, that fires were common and bears were a danger. Nothing supported the specifics of the haunting (though the prevalence of fire was certainly interesting, considering), but nothing negated it either. The ladies at the library were incredibly helpful and interested in the book. They suggested that I contact the historical society, which I've done. Now, I wait. At least this time I wait with interest and eagerness and without fear.

I enjoyed my research. Though my initial pass revealed nothing conclusive, I was taken in by the spirit of these early Vermonters and it made me want to know more. More story ideas perhaps? I do love my monsters but ghost stories, especially those based in historical fact, could be a hell of a good yarn too. In fact, a good ghost story would be my favorite thing to curl up with (in addition to an afghan and a warm beverage) on a wet or cold day. Hmm...It really is up to me, isn't it? But first, I need to get this project done and out there.

 I don't think it's a secret that I like to escape into fictional realms of my own creation (which my current project isn't), but it bears mentioning again just the same. When the world is a rapidly rotating vortex of sad circumstances, financial stress, political ugliness and an unnatural state of being (read: my current horse-less-ness), I like to make myself a cup of strong Irish tea and visit a place where all is possible: my own imagination. Just because my current project remains stuck in the pipeline does not mean I can't do something else too. Sometimes, when all else just seems to be beyond my ability to manage it, just the act of doing something, anything really, can break the spell of stagnation. And it has given me an idea.

Halloween is coming. I love Halloween, I love the spooky atmosphere, the darkening sky, the wind and the blowing leaves. I love that I think I saw somebody staring down at me from the window of the empty apartment next door, and that sometimes I hear things. What if...

Until next time:-)

Curiosity

Today's the day I suck it up and do some research. I'm not opposed to research on principle, in fact many of my major life choices have been the result of countless hours of it. But this is different. This time, I have to take a closer look at something I actively ran (almost literally) from: The Infamous Brown House. The Infamous Brown House of my former reality, and of past and current nightmares. I wrote the story of all that happened to us there; a terrifying tale of relentless and unexplained occurrences. I relived those sleepless nights and the waking horrors of those days already. I needed to. I needed to do it for myself, and for those who shared the experience. Today, stories of haunted houses abound. But then, fifteen years ago, nobody talked about it. Embarrassment kept us quiet and the story stayed dark and coiled and waiting within me. I left that house a haunted human being; what more did I need to know? I don't know the history of the place. I didn't feel like I needed to. No matter what happened, it wouldn't validate or negate our personal experiences. It was what it was. But this is a world of "why?" and it has become apparent to me that no ghost story worth it's salt comes without a history. I've been strongly encouraged by folks I have deep respect for to take this step. I finally had to admit to myself that, yes, I need to do this. So today's the day.

Maybe I will find nothing. Though it has rarely occurred to me that this might be the case, the fact of the matter is that it might very well be. Maybe I will find some magic something that will make sense of it all and provide new understanding into the whole affair. More likely it will be somewhere in the middle. I can only speculate. I am sure though, that I have made it a bigger deal than need be. I have put this off, and in doing so put off the completion of a long project I desperately want to see finished. You see, I'm still afraid. All the writing, the joking, the hopes for success, none of it diminishes the very real fear we experienced, the very real trauma we have lived with since. This isn't just a book I wrote. It's our story. I love writing about the occult, but don't really have the stomach for experiencing the reality of it. Some of you may know what I mean.

But it's time. It's time to dig out the truth, or as much of it as I can find. It's time to finish this, one way or another. "My" time of year is approaching, and it feels like it's the book's time too. It's ready to be born in earnest. It's time to release it all; the book, the fear and the hesitation. It's time to embrace my well-developed sense of dark and morbid curiosity and make it work for me. I can do this...

Being Human

It has been an interesting week on the Facebook-front. While it is generally my practice to minimize any and all social media nonsense, and to relegate it to "entertainment" status, I am realizing it really DOES accurately reflect the opinions and beliefs of actual people. Being old and therefore dismissive of social media no longer renders it irrelevant. Scary. This week's hot topic (at least within my FB circle) has been women's rights. It has been a bumpy, scary tour through the various opinions this week, and a very enlightening one. While I prefer to dwell in the realm of fiction, to NOT be angry and to cruise through my life secure in the knowledge that better folks than I are in charge and making sure that all the right things are happening, this is a luxury I don't feel entitled to any longer.

I think I have always been a feminist. Truth be told, it isn't something I ever thought much about. I have always agreed that women should get equal pay and have equal rights on all fronts, but I know that men and women are different from each other and always thought those differences were kind of cool. Equal, but different. Seems like a pretty reasonable assessment, eh?

I read a book called "The Handmaid's Tale"  in college. It was published in 1985. If you want to look it up, its Wiki page is here:  The Handmaid's Tale  Just briefly, here is a line of the description:

"Set in the near future, in a totalitarian Christian theocracy which has overthrown the United States government, The Handmaid's Tale explores themes of women in subjugation and the various means by which they gain agency." 

Back in 1985, to say the themes in this book seemed unlikely is an understatement. I thought there were some really cool, far out ideas within the story (the idea that we would have bank cards instead of checks or cash seemed especially far out and futuristic) but I felt pretty secure in knowing the war for women's rights had been won. A done deal. I no longer feel so sure.

There are people who are not just angry, but actually up in arms about women having rights to their reproductive health. There are organizations that have actually singled out women's health issues as something that should be excluded from insurance coverage. At first, I thought it had to be some kind of a joke. I mean, employers and agencies who provide health insurance for people just provide what is needed, correct? Nobody, I mean nobody would ever tolerate one gender being singled out and picked on for one specific health care need, right? That would just be ridiculous! But it's happening. It's happening under the guise of "women want us to pay for their abortions". Newsflash, angry people: No federal funds are used to pay for abortions. Period. A ruling back in 1976 decided that, and it still stands. The exception is in the case of rape. My opinion here? If you want this to go away, make rape go away. Very simple. Even a caveman could understand it. Well, in theory. But there are people who are angry about women having abortions in the case of rape and would like nothing better than to take that right away. Why? Are there people who are so hell bent on saving fetal life that the life of the woman, the VICTIM, becomes irrelevant?

The part I am having even more trouble with (I mean besides the complete disregard for a living, breathing cognizant human being that's been relegated to nothing more than incubator status) is that those same people screaming "save that baby" won't give a rat's behind if that child goes hungry every night because it's living on welfare. Then it's just another dirt molecule to put down and dehumanize. But hey, it's alive, right? We can all sleep at night knowing we did the "right" thing.

Okay, I don't want to be angry. I am a Christian and don't like the idea of abortion on many levels. I am also a woman, a rape victim, and someone who has more than two brain cells to rub together. It's more than an abortion issue though, it's birth control. Somehow that's up for debate too. Condoms aren't, Viagra isn't; but birth control for women is suddenly a big deal. From my point of view, don't even bother with the Viagra if I don't get my birth control. Just sayin'. It's funny how rarely it's the men left alone to raise the children, isn't it? I've spent half my life as a single parent, as did my mother. Yeah, great judgement men. Can you please make all my decisions for me? And yet when it's time for the government to discuss women's issues, it's a panel of men that's assembled.

Don't get me wrong, I love men. There are some really fabulous guys out there; wonderful Dads, devoted and respectful husbands and all around great folks. I had a grandfather in this category. Even guys I disagree with fiercely are still basically decent human beings at their core. But this isn't a guy thing. A guy can't relate here, and can't understand how incredibly disrespectful it is to make consideration for the woman last in decisions about her own body. It's dehumanizing. Some women disagree with me, and it makes me sad. It makes me sad because if we won't stand up for our own humanity here, we will loose it. This isn't about politics or political leaning (on some level there is a connection, but it's not really the point) this is about being human, and the right to remain so. If you don't want to be loud and obnoxious, don't want to protest or be outspoken, that's okay. Just don't be complacent. Think about it.

Going "Postal"

Maybe "going postal" isn't the most PC way of describing what I'm doing, but I suppose it's as accurate a description as any (without the semi-automatic firearms and bloody, unfair deaths, of course!). I went back and forth about writing this entry: I'm in a really crappy place and that's not exactly the stuff I want to be projecting outward into the world. But I'm nothing if not honest, and life is a process. It's easy, when times are great and smooth, to forget how tough things can be. It's not a place to wallow and revisit in a tangible sense, but remembering difficulties can be a good barometer at times. I write this fully anticipating the day when I can look back and say, "wow, look how far I've come".

There's no shame in having a tough time. It's not the 'tough time' part that's shameful. The shameful part would be the "Whaaa, poor me, I'm having a tough time and I'm going to just sit here and whine about it...Whaaa!". Doo doo happens. It isn't realistic to walk around all lilty and cheerful when there are real-world things to freak out about. It's okay to acknowledge, "hey, this is kind of sucking and it's really, really difficult. I need to take a moment to process and assimilate this." But something needs to come after, and sooner rather than later. Oh, and BTW, there's nothing new and major, I'm just feeling especially overwhelmed by more of the same ol' same ol' and frustrated to tears (like, for real) by my current inability to move past the same ever-present and stubborn stumbling blocks. The world is a wheel, and sometimes my discouragement is too: My financial situation makes it nearly impossible for me to sort out my panic/anxiety issues, and my panic/anxiety issues make it nearly impossible to sort out my financial woes. I'm not talking a bit of nervousness here folks, we're talking sometimes paralyzing, debilitating fear that makes no logical sense (despite my dogged determination to try to find some logic, and by doing so attempt to control it) and has been a problem for so long that it affects me physically in several...inconvenient...ways. I've lived with it so long that most of the time I have just gone forward doing what I could and pretending not to even notice the things that are beyond my capabilities. And when I throw phrases out there like "beyond my capabilities",  there's never a period after that phrase in my understanding of it. I mean "beyond my capabilities for right now". I'm wallowing today, no doubt, but it's a pity PARTY, not a pity way of life. It has a brief shelf-life because I said so.

As Zen and positive as I'm trying to be about my irrational negativity (see what I did there?), there has been some amusing fallout. I think I scared the CRAP out of another dog owner at the park this morning. He had not one, but TWO loose dogs, neither of whom had any recall and both of which made a beeline for my dog upon sighting him. Don't get me wrong, I am never warm and fuzzy to the "he/she just wants to say hi" crowd (click large DINOS badge at right if you can't imagine why), but this guy hit me at the worst possible moment and I completely unloaded on him. Not that he didn't have it coming. Seriously...TWO untrained loose dogs in a public park with a leash ordinance. WTF?!  But I usually at least manage to get through one of these exhaustingly-frequent exchanges without shouting things like "you inconsiderate GIT!" at people. In fact, I find firmness and assertiveness far more effective than anger and shouting. Oops. C'est la vie.

But a couple of coffees and some deep breathing later, I have at least reconnected with the logical part of myself that manages all of the problem-solving functions. Logic is much cooler than my Irish temper, and I embrace it's return with gratitude, even if it doesn't have any immediate solutions. Not digging a deeper hole is as good a temporary-fix as any;-) Logic likes to perseverate. Not always a good thing, but when it perseverates on finding ways to adjust my attitude, it can be very helpful indeed. It's Sunday. I have the time.

I think if you don't want to be miserable, you won't be. I also think if you are determined to be miserable, nothing can stop you. I know (believe me I KNOW) that misery visits us all; but I would rather turn it away at the door than invite in for tea. I spent my day reading blogs. I read the blogs of all the positive, uplifting, strong, gifted and determined people that I could absorb, and I let their words permeate the veil of  boo-hoo-ness and whaaa and reach the parts of me that they needed to reach. I did my level-best to do away with the "but"'s and allowed myself to be absorbed by the "what if" 's. I still feel like crap, but it's better crap. It's a step forward. If you keep facing and moving forward you can stay ahead of the ground crumbling beneath your feet. Well, at least in theory, right?

So this is the 'gratitude' part; I am grateful to have the tools I need to pull myself out of a hole, and even more grateful for the people, knowingly and unknowingly,  who reach their hands out to assist in that endeavor. Tomorrow is a shiny, bright new day:-)

Warm and fuzzy

Photo: Huffington Po

I've had a bit of a tough week, but consoled myself with a 'time out' and some Olympic dressage. It's the first time in a long time that I can recall watching equestrian events on television, and I haven't seen any dressage in what feels like forever. This year the stars aligned so that the Olympics occurred at a time in my life when I actually have cable. Cool beans.

As thrilling as it was to have the opportunity to watch, I will admit that I was somewhat disheartened by what constitutes Olympic-level dressage these days. I saw more than a few horses working front to back, overbent and tense, with mouths gaping open. I have no doubt in my mind that this is a direct result of Rollkur used in training. Not only was it used in training, but in the warm-up area at the Olympic games, and even on the way to the arena. It is supposed to be an illegal technique, but nothing was done about it by stewards or officials. Shame. I thought I was alone in my disappointment until I read some of the many comments on the FEI Facebook Page . Holy kaka batman, but people are cheesed off! I encourage you to follow the 'Rollkur' link if you are interested in understanding how abusive and ugly it is. It seems like it must be a new-ish thing, as I don't recall it ever being a part of classical training. Of course, I AM old though;-)

I love dressage, or at least what it is supposed to be. When I was first learning about it many years ago, I read a book (two, actually, as I wore out the first one) by Alois Podhajski called The Complete Training of Horse and Rider. I believe it was published in the late 70's, early 80's, and it was a fascinating read for anyone interested, even peripherally, in training a horse. Colonel Podhajski was a pretty amazing dude. He was the director of the Spanish Riding School in Vienna, Austria during WWII and is even credited with saving the Lipizzaners (with the help of General Patton). Here is his wiki page: Alois Podhajski
Even for non-equestrians, the story of Colonel Podhajski and his Lipizzan stallions is an interesting bit of history. He is a man I've never met, but my familiarity with his writing has given me a great deal of respect for this amazing man. His sensitivity to the horse and his compassion jump off every page even as he's describing training techniques in great technical detail. My point is, this man was my first introduction to dressage and he set the bar on most of my experiences and opinions since. One can only wonder what he would think of today's competitive dressage.

So often, "new" is synonymous with "better". This is one of those circumstances when "old" and "traditional" definitely should be the standard.  Dressage is one of those sports that has declined and fragmented as tradition has been left by the wayside. People are replacing common sense, time and sensitivity with rope halters and games. Don't get me wrong, "natural" horsemanship has it's merit, especially in light of what passes for training so often these days, but it seems to be a response to a need to be more kind in the training of horses. If the principles of classical training were still adhered to not only would abusive training like rollkur disappear, but there would be no need to seek more compassionate training methods. I'm just sayin'.  I won't bore you with the details here, but suffice it to say I spend a lot of time watching and shaking my head. To each his own I suppose. I will say that since I was a kid (back when dinosaurs roamed the Earth) that some things HAVE improved. I love some of the new bits. As we've learned and understood more, we've developed more anatomically-friendly bits that can enhance classical methods; bits by Herm. Sprenger and Neue Schule especially come to mind. And I would be lying if I said my old, lumpy self wasn't excited about the development of flexible stirrups like these: system 4 stirrups. Much easier on the ol' bones, especially the knees. But I digress.

As disheartened as I felt about most of what I was watching, one great story did unfold. The gold-medal winner was a young British woman named Charlotte Dujardin, riding her wonderful horse, Valegro (pictured above). Valegro was supposed to go to Charlotte's coach, Carl Hester (also a British team mate) but he loved the pair of them together, so history was made. Not only is this a great story because this wonderful coach let go of his ego and gave a student the opportunity to shine, but she shone without the use of cruel training practices and she WON. Not only did she win, but she did so wearing a safety helmet. At the upper-levels of dressage it is traditional to wear a top hat. Many dressage riders won't even wear a helmet when they train. I am a HUGE advocate of the safety helmet, and am so pleased that this wonderful young rider set such a great example to other up-and-comers by making safety a priority and doing it with style. The story of Charlotte and Valegro was where I garnered most of my "warm fuzzies" this week, and knowing that conscientious folks still exist gives me hope.

Goals and inspiration

I play this game with myself sometimes: I'll lay in bed for a few minutes every morning (or for as long as Murphy allows) and pretend I'm somewhere else. I'll pretend that I'm in a bedroom in my very own house, and that I have to get up to feed the horses. I pretend that I can just let Murphy out the door to follow me to the barn and that he can sniff and roll and cavort as he chooses, without fear that he will be accosted by someone else's dog. I pretend that I am living the life I want and deserve and have dreamed about since I was almost in diapers. And then I am poked relentlessly by an enthusiastic, wet snoot attached to a wiggling body until I open my eyes and get out of bed.

It's tough to be discouraged when the first thing I see in the morning is a happy Dober-face, but even then when I open my eyes and find that I'm in exactly the same place as yesterday, the day before, and the day before that...well, it does happen. While I understand that I am where I need to be, I'm nowhere near where I want to be. On a logical level, I know I have worked very hard to move forward and continue to do so, but without seeing some kind of tangible proof of progress, it gets hard to maintain any enthusiasm. I am okay, I am grateful for all that I am, all that I've learned and all that I have. Even more so, I am grateful for the people I have in my life, the people I have had in my life and the abilities I've been given to utilize as I see fit. I realize that on many levels, there are folks that would give anything even to be where I am. I know how fortunate I've been. But that's not the point. This isn't my life. This is not the life I was meant for by any stretch of the imagination, and my heart so longs to reclaim the parts of me that, for sanity's sake, have had to remain dormant and waiting for opportunity. Some days it feels like it's killing me.

And that's what it's about sometimes, isn't it? Opportunity. A single word that can mean the difference between success or failure. I know it's important from my own experience, and more recently from watching my daughter work her butt off, and still never be able to achieve what the others did because her mom couldn't afford the same opportunities as the other parents. Money can't by talent, but you can have all the talent in the world and get nowhere if you don't have opportunity. It was more difficult to watch than to experience personally. And it drives me.

When I get discouraged, I find that it helps to read the blogs of folks who I admire. We're all in different places in our evolution, we all eventually overcome our difficulties. I am encouraged when I see another person achieve a goal, or when I find humor in another's perspective. It gives me hope when I read about hope, when I can see what human beings are capable of overcoming and achieving. I am discouraged, but I'm not alone. In my real world and in the places I frequent in cyber-space, there are amazing folks cheering me on both directly and unintentionally. Right now especially, I need to remember that those resources are always there, and to immerse myself in all the "positive" that I can. Maybe then, and with a dose of sheer tenacity, I will open my eyes and find that I have achieved my goals, and we are living our lives at last.

The High Cost of Profiting from Fraud

I don't want to be angry today. It's an encouraging, hot, sunny day in a long line of encouraging, hot, sunny days. It's a Saturday, the day that others are out and about so we are in and chillin' in the AC. Murphy and I enjoyed a nice mani-pedi this morning (neither of us like polish) and I have a nice, strong pot of fresh coffee keeping me motivated. It's summer time, and the livin' is easy. But I'm not just angry, I'm P***ed. I often find myself so when I see someone profiting from fraud, especially when it's at my expense (and at the expense of others like me) Call me crazy. Today's perpetrator is a company called Free My Paws, who claim to be "the resource for service animal owners". There are LOTS of companies that sell gear for service dogs, so what's so wrong with this one?

First, a little background. The service dog "industry" is largely unregulated. This has been found necessary because of the wide range of needs of legitimately disabled handlers. Imposing specific tests on SD/handler teams would mean that some folks with significant need would be unable to have a SD. Even so, it is widely accepted that wherever it is possible, a service dog should complete a Canine Good Citizen test to determine suitability prior to beginning their service dog training and take a Public Access Test at the direction of a professional trainer to ensure that the dog is ready to work outside the home. Generally speaking, disabled folks who rely on service dogs work very hard at ensuring that their dogs can perform as needed, and do so without public inconvenience.

As I mentioned, there are many companies that cater to the needs of service dog handlers. They provide goods to better facilitate the team, and in general, make life easier. They don't ask for any kind of verification either. The difference here is, they don't tell you how to pass off your pet as a service dog just so you can take them everywhere with you. Free My Paws does, and they seem to have no problem at all with what they are doing. Check out this video: Free My Paws website video . There is so much wrong with this I don't even know where to begin.

Let's start with the Q&A section (which is, btw, exceptionally offensive to folks who have legitimate disabilities, pretty much ensuring that only fraudulent users are going to shop FMP)

If you yourself would like to perpetrate fraud, be warned. These folks gloss over some pretty important points in order to convince the pet-owning public that anyone can take their dog anywhere, it's easy. I won't go down the whole Q&A list, but I'll pull out some of the more disgusting examples:

Q: What is a Service Animal?
A. The ADA defines a Service Animal as any Guide Dog, Signal Dog, or other animal individually trained to provide assistance to an individual with a disability, so long as the person’s disability falls under the ADA’s definition of physical or mental impairment or condition.

Wrong.


Here is the ADA's definition (as found here):
"Service animals are defined as dogs that are individually trained to do work or perform tasks for people with disabilities. Examples of such work or tasks include guiding people who are blind, alerting people who are deaf, pulling a wheelchair, alerting and protecting a person who is having a seizure, reminding a person with mental illness to take prescribed medications, calming a person with Post Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD) during an anxiety attack, or performing other duties. Service animals are working animals, not pets. The work or task a dog has been trained to provide must be directly related to the person’s disability. Dogs whose sole function is to provide comfort or emotional support do not qualify as service animals under the ADA."

As much as FMP would like to gloss over the "training, work and task" part to encourage "Joe pet owner" to just throw a vest on his pet dog, that part is the essence of a service dog. Yes, they do mention "training", but they don't elaborate and they stop short of discussing the severity and reality of actual disabilities.


Here's my favorite:
Q: I don’t think I am disabled, so do I qualify?
A: You may not think that you’re disabled—yet, you still may be legally “disabled” under the ADA. Just go through our Disability Self-Assessment Test which tracks the ADA’s definitional hoops.

Are you F'ing kidding me? Believe you me, folks with disabilities that are severe enough to warrant the assistance of a service dog are not asking themselves this question. FMP has to know that, but they don't care. They encourage people to find an excuse, a reason that entitles them to take their pet wherever they go. It's no better than "I have a touch of asthma sometimes, I'm entitled to park in a handicapped spot".


And this, the real purpose of these folks:
Q: Does my ID Card expire? A. Yes, the ID Cards are valid for 1 year. In order to remain compliant with most transport administrations requirement that documentation be current within one year, we require our clients to renew their IDs each year. Note that the same rules may also apply to any Doctor's certificates you provide airlines when travelling. If you purchased your ID as part of a kit, an ID renewal is available for $19.99 per annum (normally $39.99).

Guess what folks, as any legitimate service dog handler will tell you, ID cards are NOT NECESSARY.

From the ADA: When it is not obvious what service an animal provides, only limited inquiries are allowed. Staff may ask two questions: (1) is the dog a service animal required because of a disability, and (2) what work or task has the dog been trained to perform. Staff cannot ask about the person’s disability, require medical documentation, require a special identification card or training documentation for the dog, or ask that the dog demonstrate its ability to perform the work or task.

Even so, ID cards can make life easier. And they can be purchase at any service dog store for about $20. And they don't expire. At least they mentioned a letter from a doctor, which DOES need to be current within one year. While medical documentation of the specifics of your disability are not allowed, if you want to travel it is expected that you provide a letter from your doctor stating that you are disabled and require a service dog. I'm sure there are doctors who have no problem at all with lying, but at least this requirement makes it more difficult for the fakes. Not only does a person need to have a disability under the law, they must have a DOCUMENTED disability, and a doctor's letter confirming this. Nobody is allowed to ask what the disability is, but you must have proof. In my experience (and I fly with my dog regularly), transportation agencies are far more concerned with doctor-verification than with some ID you purchased online.


I guess the most reprehensible part of what Free My Paws is doing, is exploiting the ADA and in turn, risking the rights of legitimate service dog handlers. They are saying (and carefully, within barely legal parameters) "Hey, this is vague enough that YOU TOO may get to experience the joys of bringing your pet with you everywhere, come spend money here and we'll help make that happen". And why is this not okay? Well, the easy answer is because it makes light of the plight of those with legitimate need. But the biggest consequence that I've personally witness is the prominence of ill-mannered "service dogs". Pet owners largely don't grasp the reality of having your dog go with you everywhere, and are unprepared (as are the dogs) for the experience. I have seen dogs licking plates in restaurants, running off-leash at the beach, barking in movie theaters and walking up to strangers for a pat on the head, all while wearing a vest declaring them a "service dog". NONE of this behavior is okay or acceptable while on the job, but it's what the public sees. It's what gatekeepers at businesses see, it's what the travel industry sees. And it makes life that much harder for those with real need, whose dogs are trained and well-prepared for the rigors of public access. If it continues, it may force changes in the laws that could significantly harm the cause of the truly disabled. In short (yeah, I know...too late for that), Free my Paws is doing harm to the disabled community, just to make a buck, and it's reprehensible.


On the upside, fraudulent service dog handlers are frequently 'outed' by their dog's behavior, and the public does have recourse: From the ADA: A person with a disability cannot be asked to remove his service animal from the premises unless: (1) the dog is out of control and the handler does not take effective action to control it or (2) the dog is not housebroken. When there is a legitimate reason to ask that a service animal be removed, staff must offer the person with the disability the opportunity to obtain goods or services without the animal’s presence.

While it's true that real service dogs make mistakes, they are few and far between  and tend to be promptly dealt with by the handler.


I know I shouldn't take the behavior of  Free My Paws so personally, but they minimize the legitimate difficulties of living with a disability by turning it into nothing more than an excuse to take your dog everywhere. It's disgusting, and I wish there was something that could be done about it. I guess the only thing that I or people like me can do is be sure to purchase our equipment from legitimate sources and to spread the word. I know that within our community at the very least, any dog sporting FMP equipment will be immediately identifiable as a fraud.