A New Experience at the Grocery Store

I had a new, and somewhat disturbing, experience yesterday.  And I don't have new experiences at the grocery store too often anymore.

I was at the grocery store, doing the self checkout thing, when a little girl about five or so came over close to Isaac. She was looking at him and maybe going to ask to pet him (or maybe pet without asking, I don't know), when her father, who was at another self checkout thing, started yelling at her. "Get over here! Leave that dog alone! That dog is working, you can't pet him. You can't bother a working dog. Get over here right now! Don't make me come over there and get you!"

While I usually appreciate parents that tell their kids not to bother working dogs, I've never had a parent yell at their kid about it like this. I hate when parents yell at their kids. It's a trigger with my PTSD. And it seems so rude. Would they talk to anyone else that way? And if not, what makes them think it is OK to talk to their kids like that?

While I finished ringing out my stuff, I thought about it, and I wondered how the dad would respond if I yelled at his kid that way when she was looking at my dog. I would never do that, of course, but I bet he wouldn't like it if I did. So why does he think it's OK for him to talk to her that way?

They were just getting ready to leave when I was done paying, and I decided I needed to do something. I approached them, said "excuse me" and asked the dad if it would be OK if Isaac said hi to his little girl (as long as it was OK with the little girl, too, of course).

He said yes, so I asked her if she would like to say hi to Isaac. She did. She petted him really nicely and I told her his name.

I told her I'd noticed her looking at him earlier and told her it is OK to ask if she can pet a dog in a store, but that she always needs to ask before petting a dog she doesn't know. I also said sometimes the dog's person might say no, and then she should said "OK, thank you" and not bother the dog.

I asked her if she would like to give Isaac a treat and she said yes, so I gave her a treat from my pocket and told her to tell him to sit first, which she did, and Isaac sat right away, and she liked that.

I thanked the dad for telling her not to bother a working dog and told him that it's OK to ask someone to pet a SD as long as you realize the handler might say no and that's OK.

I felt pretty good about how I dealt with the whole situation, but I still hate when parents scream at their kids like that.

No! It Wasn't Me!

Yesterday when I was getting groceries at the food pantry, a woman said she thought she'd seen me in a local restaurant about a month ago with my SD and asked if I'd been there. I said I go there once in a while but didn't know if I'd been there when she was there or not.

Then she said, as if to jog my memory, I'd been feeding my service dog bites of my steak under the table.

I was horrified. I said, "Oh no! No, no, no! I NEVER feed him in a restaurant! Service dogs are NEVER supposed to be fed in a restaurant! That was not me, I would never do that."

I wonder if that means there is another service dog team in my area now? One with a handler that thinks it is OK to feed her SD in a restaurant?

The woman didn't seem to understand why I was so emphatic about it not being me, but I wanted to be really clear that I would never do that and that it would be very inappropriate for anyone to do it.

Parents That Get It Right

Yesterday at the grocery store, there was a woman with a child maybe three years old in the produce section.  I think the child asked his mom if he could pet the doggie and the mom was explaining that he couldn't because this was a helper dog and he was working so they couldn't pet him.  I smiled at the mother and thanked her for teaching her child about service dogs.

Isaac was wagging his tail and looking hopefully at the child.  He loves kids.  I asked the little boy if he would like to say hi to the doggie and he said yes.  I told Isaac to say hi and the child petted his  nose gently and Isaac sniffed his hand and wagged his tail.

The little boy told me he had a doggie at home and the mom told me Isaac was a beautiful dog, which of course he is.  Then the mom prompted him to say thank you to me for letting him pet the doggie and he said "Thank you for letting me pet the doggie" very nicely.

Sometimes I wish I had some gold stars or something to hand out to parents that teach their kids about service dogs.

Really

Woman at Panera to her husband: Look, it's a guide dog.

Husband to Isaac: Hi there, fella! Look at those beautiful eyes!

Woman to her husband: I don't think you're supposed to bother them.

Husband: You're not supposed to touch them but you can talk to them.
 
Me: Actually you're not supposed to talk to them, either.

Man (looking confused): You're not?

Me: No. It distracts them when they are working.

Man: It does?

Me: Yes. Just like if you were at work and someone started talking to you and petting you.

Man: Petting I understand. But talking?

Me: Yes. It distracts them.

Man (looking doubtful): Really?

Had to Go to Urgent Care Today

Well, yesterday, now.  I started writing this last night but didn't get finished.

Friday evening I started having symptoms of a UTI and last night I decided that if I still had symptoms when I got up this morning, I would to to urgent care.  I wouldn't be able to call my primary care physician's office until Monday morning and I was afraid it might be a day or two before he could get me in, and I didn't want to wait that long to get it treated, partly because I felt rotten and partly because I didn't want to give the infection that much time to progress into something worse like a kidney infection.

So today I went to urgent care.  I guess it's a good thing I did because apparently my urine was full of bacteria.  The doctor felt it was a really bad infection.  Which is kinda odd because while I was pretty sure I had one, I wasn't 100% positive.  I didn't feel like it was a really bad infection.  Just like I probably had one.  I hate that it is so hard for me to tell when I'm sick or how sick I am.  It seems like half the time I feel like I am at death's door and it turns out I have only a very minor illness and then the other half I feel just slightly under the weather and it turns out I am seriously ill, maybe even at death's door.

The trip to urgent care went pretty well.  I was anxious because I hate seeing doctors in general and especially doctors I don't know.  I had a great experience at the urgent care that is attached to the ER at my local hospital a few months ago but they are not open on weekends.  So I had to go to a different urgent care.

I got a friend to go with me, since it makes me so anxious.  Of course, Isaac went with me, too.

Isaac was mostly good.  He got a little restless after sitting in the waiting room for about an hour.  I ran him through some commands, sit, down, lap, paws up, had him pick up my gloves and my keys.  That gave him something to do.  Gave me something to do, too.  And, I think, entertained the other people sitting in the waiting room.

When we got back to the exam room, after waiting some more, the nurse came in.  He checked my vital signs, did the usual history, then asked me if I was visually impaired.  I assume because of Isaac.  I just said no, I wasn't.

Then the doctor came in.  Oh, before that I gave a urine sample.  So the first thing she said when she came in was that I most definitely did have a UTI.  But then she asked if Isaac was my service dog.  Um... yeah.  Whose else would he be?  I thought that was kind of a weird question.

And then she said, "What is wrong with you, that you have a service dog?"

Um... really?  Now, some people will think it is OK for her to ask that, since maybe my disability will have some impact on the diagnosis and treatment of my medication condition.  I don't think it does, in this instance.  She already had the results of my urinalysis, which showed I have a UTI.  There is no disability that I know of that would, say, cause a false positive there.  Are there disabilities that would affect the medications she could prescribe?  That's possible, but I'd already been asked about medication allergies and provided that information, as well as the fact that I cannot take NSAIDS due to my RNY gastric bypass (which is not a disability) and also provided a list of medications and over-the-counter vitamins and supplements I take.

So did she need to know what my disability is?  I don't really think so.  But even if she did, that was not the right way to ask.

I really just wanted to get out of there because we'd been there about two hours by then and I was tired and not feeling well and was not in the mood to educate the doctor.  So I just said, "PTSD and fibromyalgia."

And she said, "Oh you poor thing."

She said it like she was really sympathetic, like she was really sorry to hear that.  I don't think she meant to be condescending or insulting or anything like that.  But really?

Despite that, I actually liked the doctor.  I think she just didn't know a more respectful way to talk to me about my disability and my service dog.

A friend suggested I write a pamphlet for health care professionals about service dogs and how to best interact with patients that have service dogs, which I think is a great idea.  And another friend jumped in and said she'd love to help write that pamphlet, which I am thrilled about because while I think it is a great idea, at the moment I am tired and sick and lacking in energy to do it.  When it's done, though, I plan to make it available to anyone that wants it.  I'll post here about how to get a copy.

A Quick Trip to Walmart

Today I went to Walmart. I hate Walmart and hardly ever go there - I don't think I've been to one in about a year - but I had lunch right by one and I wanted to buy some canning supplies and figured Walmart would have them cheap. So I went. When I was paying for my stuff, another employee, not the one ringing me up, came over and bent way down to look Isaac in the face and was right up in his face, no doubt about to start the baby-talk and kissy-sounds. The employee that was now bagging my stuff said, "He's working, don't bother him," to her coworker. That woman needs a raise.

More on Staring and Pointing

With my previous blog post on the subject still fresh in my mind, Isaac and I went off the do our grocery shopping.  There, we encountered a young father who seemed determined to teach his toddler to stare and point at disabled people with service dogs.

The toddler was looking at something on a shelf when Isaac and I walked past the family.  The father spotted Isaac, picked up his daughter and turned her around so she would see Isaac, pointed and said excitedly, "Doggie!  Doggie!  Doggie!"

The father was saying "doggie," not the toddler.

Two more times Isaac and I happened to pass this family in the store, and each time, the father pointed and squealed, "Doggie!  Doggie!"  Then the toddler began to point and squeal, "Doggie!  Doggie!" as well, which seemed to please her father very much.

Good grief.  Why on earth would you want to teach your child to point and stare at disabled people in the store?

Staring

How old were you when your mama told you not to stare at people that were "different?"  She did tell you that, didn't she?  It seems to be something most kids are told when they are young.

There is a difference between "not staring" and looking away, avoiding making eye contact, pretending not to see.  There is a difference between teaching a child not to stare (and certainly not to point at someone that is different in some way) and pulling the child away, covering their eyes, acting as if the sight of someone different might hurt them somehow.

People with physical disabilities, those in wheelchairs and those with significantly noticeable physical differences, have told me stories of parents grabbing their children, literally covering children's eyes, yelling at their kids not to look, things like that.  Which I think is as bad as staring.  It's bad for the person with the disability and it's bad for the child, because it teaches the child that difference is something to fear, to avoid.

There are better ways for parents to handle a child's interest in someone or something that is different.  One person who uses a wheelchair, a bright blue chair, told me how one mother, upon noticing her daughter looking, said, "Isn't that a beautiful blue chair?"  How awesome is that?  She acknowledged her daughter's interest in seeing something different and instead of acting like being different was scary or shameful, called it beautiful.

Another person who uses a wheelchair told me how a mother, noticing her son looking, said, "That looks a lot like your aunt's chair, doesn't it?"  Which is also awesome.  She drew a connection between someone different-looking and a person the child knew and loved.  Suddenly the wheelchair wasn't so strange anymore, and neither, I imagine, was the person in it.

But it's understandable, to me, that kids would look at something that was different and unusual, something they aren't used to seeing.  I think adults should know better.

People stare at you when you go places with a service dog.  Well, they stare at the dog more than they stare at the person, I think.  But when the dog is right next to the person, they are pretty much staring at both.  And sometimes, they do stare at the person, too.  Maybe they are trying to figure out why you have a service dog.  I'm not sure.

Now, I don't mind if something notices my dog, looks at him briefly, maybe smiles at him.  I think that's kind of nice.  I mean, you're going to notice a dog in a place you don't normally see a dog, like a restaurant or grocery store.  And I like it that people generally seem to like seeing Isaac.  They usually smile when they notice him.  He's cute, he looks friendly, people like seeing him.  That's good.

But staring is different.  Especially staring that comes with pointing.

Mostly I ignore it.  Some days it bothers me more than others.  Yesterday at the thrift store it was really bothering me for some reason.

There was a kid, maybe 11 or 12, shopping with an older woman, maybe his grandma.  They were at one end of a long aisle, Isaac and I were at the other end.  The kid saw Isaac and wanted to point him out to his grandma.  And he literally pointed.  And stared.  And both turned their heads to keep looking as Isaac and I walked by them.  I thought it was rude.  I thought the grandma should have told him not to point at people.

Then when we were waiting in line to pay, there was a woman in line in front of us.  She was so busy staring at us that she didn't notice when the line moved.  The person in front of her finished paying and she was still just standing there, staring, until the cashier called out to her to get her attention.  I thought she was being rude, too.

I realize that going out in public with a service dog is going to attract some attention.  I just don't like being stared and pointed at.

Distracted Doggie? Doh!

A couple days ago, Isaac and I were in Starbucks.  We were waiting for someone that, it turns out, stood me up.  Whatever.

I ordered a skinny vanilla latte and was waiting for the barista to make my drink.  There were two women with a toddler in a highchair at a nearby table.  One of the women asked, "Are you training him?"

I gave my standard answer.  "Nope.  He's already fully trained."

She looked a bit surprised and/or confused and said, "He's already fully trained?"

I said, "Yes."

The other woman then asked, "What program did you get him from?"

I told her.  She told me how someone she knows is a puppy raiser for some guide dog program, I forget which one.

Then she said, "I'm not supposed to talk to him, am I?"

I said, "No.  It distracts him."

She looked at Isaac, who was busy staring out the big glass window.  "Hmmph," she said.  "Looks like he's already distracted by something out there."

Well...sort of.  The comment caught me off guard.  I decided not to try to explain that looking out the window when I am not doing anything that requires his assistance is not the same as being distracted by someone petting him and talking to him.  But it's not the same.  Not at all.

You Know It's Not Polite, Right?

I had previously assumed strangers were more likely to ask me why I have a service dog than they would be to ask someone why they have a wheelchair, but perhaps I've been mistaken about that.

Yesterday I was talking to one of my neighbors, who wears leg braces and walks with a cane.  She told me that strangers will come up to her in the grocery store or another public place and ask her why she wears braces or what's wrong with her.  Sometimes they ask, "Did you have polio?  Do you have cerebral palsy?"

You know that's not polite, right?  Please tell me you don't do that.

I assume most adults know that's bad manners, but many just choose to do it anyway.  I don't understand why, though.  I mean, I get being curious.  But I don't ask complete strangers every little thing I feel curious about.  I know it's bad manners to ask people I don't know personal questions and I know it's none of my business.  So I keep my curiosity to myself.  Why is it that some people think they have the right to information that's really none of their business?

Arresting for Barking at a Police Dog

Did you read about the football player that got arrested for barking at a police dog?

People bark at service dogs all the time.  They bark at them in the grocery store and places like that.  They don't get arrested for it, either.

One would think these immature people might behave a bit better around police dogs, though, since police dogs are generally accompanied by police officers.  But apparently not. 

Do you think this means I can make a citizen's arrest the next time someone barks at Isaac in the grocery store?

Actually, you can only make a citizen's arrest if someone is committing a felony.  Did you know that?  I'm not sure, but I'm guessing that barking at a dog, even a police dog, is probably just a misdemeanor.

Apparently Isaac's "Please Don't Pet Me, I'm Working" Patch Isn't Sufficient

Isaac has a patch on his vest that says "Please Don't Pet Me, I'm Working."  But that is apparently not sufficient.  I need a patch that says "Do Not Pet Me, Talk to Me, Make Kissy Noises at Me, Bark at Me, Meow at Me, or Otherwise Bother Me."  I don't think all that would fit on Isaac's vest, though.

Yesterday, Isaac and I were in line at Kroger when an employee started talking to him, making kissy noises at him, etc.  "Oh, pretty, pretty doggie.  I can't pet you.  I'm sorry.  I would pet you but I'm not allowed.  It says so right there on your thing.  I'm sorry, baby.  Pretty doggie."

Isaac was so good.  He looked at her and that was it.  In the past, he would have tried to go to her and asked to be petted.

Don't Encourage Your Kid to Bother the Service Dog

Apparently this is not uncommon, although today was the first time it happened to me.

I was at the grocery store, with Isaac, and a man was pushing a cart down the aisle with a toddler in it.  He pointed out the doggie to the toddler, then started calling, "Here, Doggie, Doggie!"  Then he started barking at the doggie.  The man, not the toddler.

Besides looking like an idiot, what is that teaching his kid? 

Words Matter (Part I)

Read the following and be honest about the images each phrase brings up for you.

• the mentally ill
• a mentally ill person
• a person with a mental illness

Do you really get the same picture in your head for each one?  Do they really all bring up the same emotions for you?

Now try these.

• a wheelchair-bound person
• a person in a wheelchair
• a person confined to a wheelchair
• a person that uses a wheelchair

And now try this one:

• a person

 How would you prefer that people refer to you?  How would you refer to yourself, if you had a mental illness or used a wheelchair?

I Found This a Bit Insulting

A few days ago, I came home from running some errand and found a flyer on my door.  It looked like there was one on every door in my apartment building.  I took the flyer and went inside and read it over.

It was a handy list of "Tornado Safety Tips," which apparently my landlord thought would be of use to all the tenants in the building.

The flyer listed signs that a tornado might be coming, including a low-hanging cloud that looks to be rotating (well, yeah, I guess that would be a sign of a tornado, huh?), debris dropping from the sky, and a "greenish-black tint to the sky."  I was immediately turned off because as a freelance writer, I have to do research and put accurate facts, based on reputable sources, in my articles.  I recently read something that said that a greenish-colored sky did not indicate an approaching tornado.

To be certain of my facts, I looked it up.  According to the Journal of Applied Meteorology, a green sky is a sign of severe weather.  Well, yeah, you usually don't see a green sky on a calm, sunny day.  But it doesn't necessarily mean a tornado.

If my landlord wants to help me  prepare for a possible tornado, I would appreciate accurate information.  But whatever.  That's not the part that I found most insulting.

The flyer went on to advise me to inform "the blind or deaf" about the weather conditions.  Because, what, they aren't bright enough to know what the weather is like?

I guess blind people wouldn't be able to see that green sky, but since that doesn't mean a tornado is imminent anyway, I'm not sure that really matters.  I haven't known many people with visual impairments, but there was a woman that used to live near me that was blind.  We took the same bus downtown to work, back when I was a social worker.  She was a social worker, too.  I'm guessing she was aware of the weather conditions.  When it was raining, she got as wet as I did, standing on the corner waiting for that bus.  She used her umbrella when it rained, zipped up her coat and put on her gloves when it was cold, etc.  She seemed to be as aware as I was about the weather, even though she could not see the sky.  I wonder if she would have appreciated me saying, "Hey, Mary Ann, it's raining" when it was raining.  I'm thinking not.

I've known quite a few people that were deaf and they all seemed to be aware of the weather, too.  Sometimes they would even tell me about the weather.  For instance, when I did volunteer work at a summer camp for kids with disabilities, some of them would sign to me, "It's hot!" on a particularly hot day.  I bet they would be aware of things like low-hanging rotating clouds and debris falling from the sky, too.

Besides the apparent assumption that people that are visually impaired or deaf must be too dumb to notice if the weather is bad, this flyer referred to them as "the blind and deaf."  Not people with visual impairments, not people that are blind, not people that are hard of hearing, not deaf people.  The blind.  The deaf.  Because of course they are all the same and the most important thing about them is their disability.  I'll have to write about person first language another time, but if you didn't know, it is appropriate to say "a person with a disability," putting the person first.  It is not appropriate to say "the disabled."

No, I'm Not Training Him for a Blind Person

A few days ago, I was shopping at Meijer.  This is not the Meijer I used to shop at regularly, but the Meijer closest to my new home; close is a relative term, since it's nearly 20 miles away.

I was selecting some yogurt when an employee asked me if I was training Isaac.

I replied with my standard answer: "No, he's already trained."

She looked confused and said, "You're not training him for a blind person?" 

I said, "No, he is already fully trained.  He's my service dog."

She started telling me how she used to have a dog that she got from "those people that train them for the blind," and how he was "too friendly and too nosy" so they let her adopt him.  She said he was a great dog.

And then she asked, "So you're not training him for a blind person?"

I said, "No, he is already fully trained.  He is my service dog.  Service dogs help people with all kinds of disabilities, not just blind people.  And you can't always tell if someone has a disability just by looking at them."

To which she replied, "I know that!  I just thought maybe you were training him for a blind person."

I sighed and said, "I have to finish my shopping now," and walked off.

No, I'm Not Blind

Today as I walked to my car with Isaac, after leaving the grocery store, an elderly man called out loudly to me, "That's a fine Seeing Eye dog you got there, ma'am!"

I called back, "Thank you!" and kept walking, got in my car, and drove away.

Did the old man mean "service dog" when he said "Seeing Eye" dog?  Or did he assume I was blind?  Believe it or not, while to my knowledge no one else has assume I am blind because I have a service dog, many people with service dogs are assumed to be blind by members of the public.  People make comments about their visual impairment even as they do things like work crossword puzzles, browse in bookstores, and get behind the wheels of their cars.  To many people, a service dog is still a symbol of visual impairment.

One person told me how she was taking a city bus with her service dog and happened to be sitting next to a mother and a little girl.  The mother was doing a book of crossword puzzles and the person with the service dog was watching because she likes crossword puzzles.  The mother was stuck on one answer and the woman with the dog told her what the answer was.  Then the little girl asked why the woman had a dog with her and her mother said, "She's blind and the dog helps her."  I don't know how the mother thought the blind woman was able to look at her crossword puzzle and figure out the answer!

Another person told me how she was in the grocery store one day with her service dog, reading the labels on some packages, when a little girl asked her mother why that woman had a dog in the grocery store.  The mother replied, "She's blind and the dog helps her."  The little girl reasonably pointed out, "But Mommy, she's reading those boxes!"  The mother explained, "That's because she has her dog to help her."  Um.... a guide dog that can read labels?

Service dogs that guide blind people are referred to as guide dogs, by the way.  "Seeing Eye" dogs are guide dogs from a specific program; it's like a brand name.  Some people refer to any guide dog as a Seeing Eye dog, but that's like the way some people refer to any disposable tissue as a Kleenex or any adhesive bandage as a Band-aid. 

All in a Day's Work

Today, Isaac and I went to Panera, the grocery store, and the library.  And today:

• Two small kids pointed and squealed "Doggie!" (which I don't really mind, they were little kids)
• One woman asked to pet Isaac (while he was lying quietly under the table at Panera, no less)
• One man petted him without asking
• Four people told him he was a pretty doggie
• One woman asked me why I need a service dog

But I Really Love Dogs!

Today Mike and I stopped at Denny's for a late lunch.  Isaac was with me, of course, and he behaved very well.  Mike had a meatball sub and I guess Isaac thought it smelled really, really delicious because he whimpered very loudly when it was placed on the table.  I corrected him and he stopped, though.

As we were leaving, a waitress asked, "I'm not allowed to pet him, am I?"

I said, "Not while he's working, sorry.  I appreciate you asking, though."

She looked crestfallen and said, "But...I really love dogs!"  Like, since she really loves dogs, I should allow her to pet him even though he's working.

Is Your Dog Going to Wait Outside?

Tonight Mike and I went to a local Mexican restaurant for dinner.  We've been there before with Isaac and I like it because the staff never asks me personal questions like why I have a service dog and they never try to pet him or talk to him.  I'm not sure, but it may be a cultural thing.  Most of the staff is Hispanic. 

Well, tonight we were waiting to be seated and when the hostess came to greet us, she looked at Isaac and looked confused.  I thought maybe she was going to tell me dogs weren't allowed or ask if he was a service dog or something.  But no.  Instead, she asked me if he was going to wait outside.

Now, if my dog was going to wait outside while I went in and ate, why would I have taken him in at all?  I didn't ask her that, though.  I just said, "No, he's going to go under the table."  She looked a bit uncertain but didn't say anything else.  She seated us at a booth in a far corner.

Isaac was very good at the restaurant, by the way.  He stayed under the table, stayed quiet, and people seated near us didn't even realize he was there until we were leaving and they saw him then.