Autism Service Dogs

Boy, am I angry. I had planned to write a nice article about the excellent disability accommodations I'd received from United Airlines on my outbound trip to Denver, but at the moment all I can think about is how angry I am at their casual disregard for the law when booking my return flight.

Outbound, I'd explained my need for accommodations to the reservations agent, and had no problems getting my accommodative seating. In fact, while it wasn't required, the agent went so far as to block off an entire row of seats for Glindy and I in bulkhead so that we wouldn't have any issues. That's what I call customer service!

However, I just got off the phone with a putative Complaints Resolution Officer for United—but he was, in fact, just a call-center supervisor who obviously didn't know the law. When I asked for bulkhead seats, he told me that they would only give them to me if I were blind or unable to walk. I asked if any blind or immobilized passengers were currently occupying those bulkhead seats, and he said no, but they made it a policy to hold them "in reserve."

I told him that if they needed to move me to accommodate someone who had greater need of those bulkhead seats than my service dog and I, then of course I would understand, but otherwise they were required to release one of those seats to me. He insisted that they didn't; that all they had to do was make a "reasonable accommodation" of some sort.

In the end, rather than not get my ticket changed at all, I agreed to be seated in Economy Plus seating, which boasts "five extra inches of leg room," although it's not entirely clear to me that this is five inches in front of the seat stanchions, which are the main reason I avoid non-bulkhead seats when traveling with Glindy. It doesn't do us any good if it's five extra inches in depth under the seats.

Alas, I didn't think to pull out my handy-dandy legal cheat sheet. By that point, the main issue was that I needed to have my non-refundable tickets changed before the flight left, so I was more interested in getting the flight changed than anything else. However, after hanging up the phone, I did a little double-checking.

14 CFR 382.38(3) specifically says:

For an individual traveling with a service animal, the carrier shall provide, as the individual requests, either a bulkhead seat or a seat other than a bulkhead seat.

so clearly a disabled individual can insist on a bulkhead seat, whatever this guy said.

Now that I have my ticket properly changed for my homeward flight, I plan to call tomorrow to insist that they change my seat from Economy Plus back to bulkhead seating. It's what I asked for. It's what I want. And even if I occasionally let myself be bullied when I shouldn't, there's nothing that says I can't regroup, gather my thoughts, and try again.

I enjoy doing legal research about service dogs—partly because it's a subject near and dear to my heart, and partly just because I find the gyrations of our legal system to be fascinating.

The other day, I found this great case on FindLaw that reassured me that common sense has not yet been completely bred out of the human race. The case was about a service dog named Jazz that yipped during the intermission (NB: not during the performance) of a concert.

In looking at the individual merits of this case, the court found that:

[A business] may not exclude a service animal who has made a noise on a previous occasion, even if such behavior is disruptive, if the noise was made and intended to serve as means of communication for the benefit of the disabled owner or if the behavior would otherwise be acceptable...if engaged by humans.

The court also provided this noteworthy insight:

Clearly, humans generally do not bark like dogs and dogs generally do not cough like humans. But that does not render the ordered modification [to the Center's policies] unreasonable. The order requires a general comparison of disruptiveness, and this does not seem an especially difficult task. For instance, the acceptability of a given outburst—human or animal—can be gauged by patrons' responses. In this case, no patron complained on the two occasions that Jazz made noise in the Center; it seems clear that Jazz's behavior was not disruptive.

In short, according to the 9th Circuit, you can still be ejected if your SD is needlessly disruptive or behaving inappropriately, but a dog behaving like a dog cannot be considered inherently disruptive. If a dog yelps because someone steps on its tail, or makes an alerting noise, the context must be taken into account.

Of course, this decision doesn't absolve SD handlers of the responsibility to maintain quiet and well-behaved dogs, but it does mean that well-trained dogs aren't expected to be robots, either.

As a final note, I'm sure many will worry that some pet owner or uncaring SD handler will ruin this landmark decision by abusing common courtesy and good sense, using this ruling as justification for letting Cujo run amok. However, I feel certain that legal opinions like this display a lot of compassion and common sense; I simply won't believe that such a nuanced understanding of individual cases can be so easily upset by a few folks from the fringe.

Sometimes, the system really does work.

I just got off the phone with Horizon Air's customer service. I was trying to book a flight to Los Angeles, and was having trouble arranging for accommodative seating.

The FAA regulations state that a service animal may not sit in an emergency exit row. Unfortunately, the planes Horizon operates in this particular market don't have bulkhead or first-class seats; instead, the forward-most seats are coach-class emergency exit rows, so Glindy and I may not sit there. This would seem to technically violate 14 CFR 382.38(a)(3), but I'm not sure how much hay one could make of that.

The Air Carrier Access Act also says that an airline must either block seats or provide priority seating for disabled passengers, but the ways they can go about it are often unfriendly. Horizon handles this situation by requiring disabled passengers to check in early, and ask the ticketing or gate agents to arrange for blocking or rearrangement of seats. This method may meet the requirements of the seating assignments section (14 CFR 382.38(b)), but leaves some edge cases where one is likely to have to involve a Complaints Resolution Official (14 CFR 382.65).

What this means in practice is that Horizon will do its best, but it is certainly possible to be bumped from a flight under certain circumstances. For example, if the flight is completely full and no one is willing to share foot-space with your dog, you might be out of luck, as a carrier isn't required to furnish more than one seat per ticket (14 CFR 382.38(i)) or bump other passengers to provide an accommodation (14 CFR 382.38(h)).

Whether or not Horizon is meeting the requirement to adequately disclose limitations on accommodation (14 CFR 382.45) remains an open question in my mind, but Horizon is unfortunately within the law in how they choose to assign seats in this case.

In the end, I cancelled my Horizon Air reservation, and booked on Southwest instead, since Southwest does provide bulkhead seats to disabled passengers. In addition, Southwest's reservation system now allows passengers to indicate, at the time of booking, that they will be travelling with either a service dog or emotional support animal. This is a huge step forward, in my opinion; it certainly saves the hassle of having to contact the airlines after making the reservation to have the ticket annotated.

Well, Horizon's loss was Southwest's gain. I would prefer having assigned seats on a plusher plane such as those Horizon Air operates, but I vastly prefer Southwest's accommodation practices.

I just got off the phone with the Director of San Francisco Animal Welfare and Control. He is an extremely nice guy who is in a very difficult position when it comes to ADA and state disability law compliance, and I was deeply appreciative of the time he gave me to try and resolve some of the problems I was facing in getting a California service dog tag for Glindy.

Apparently, the city and county of San Francisco have come under fire from all sides regarding their service dog tags. The system that they have is easily abused, and they have a tremendous number of people with untrained animals receiving these tags instead of seeking the more appropriate protection of "emotional support animals" under the federal Fair Housing Act or the state's Fair Employment and Housing Act. At the same time, the department is receiving pressure from various disability lobbies to only issue tags for the disabilities the lobbies care about, in order to prevent dilution of what it means to be a service dog.

Nobody wants their particular disability to be excluded by law, and nobody wants the bar for service dog status to be so high that the economically or socially disadvantaged can't attain it. However, without any baseline criteria about what constitutes adequate public access training, many well-intentioned organizations are left in an unenviable position with regards to determining what makes a legitimate service animal.

Glindy and I may be in a tough spot when it comes to compliance in California, but I think the Animal Welfare people are in an even tougher spot. In the end, we're all just doing the best we can.

I've been speaking to folks on the phone all day regarding SDIT licensing in California, and getting the run-around. I spoke to the Assistant Director of San Francisco Animal Welfare, who insisted that they could not issue such a tag to non-residents even if they worked in the municipality.

Next, I spoke to a very nice lady at the California State Attorney General's Office. She told me there was no state oversight of service animal licensing, and gave me a few other numbers to try.

I was also, at various points, directed to the Tax Collector's office, the San Francisco County Clerk, and the Superior Court Clerk. None of them had any idea how to go about this, either.

Finally, I was given the number to the office of the Director of Animal Welfare, and am expecting a call back from him tomorrow to determine if there is any way to comply with this law.

What was really odd about the whole experience is that everyone I spoke to (with one notable exception) understood the problem once I explained it, and seemed surprised that the issue had never been raised before. Maybe tomorrow will yield some better results.

I contacted San Francisco Animal Control today regarding service dog tags for Glindy as required for SDITs under California Civil Code Sections 54.1(c) and 54.2(b). The person manning the phones tried to insist that they only issued tags to permanent residents, which is something clearly not spelled out in the California Civil Code. Also, he tried to tell me that they wanted a doctor's note before they would issue a tag in any case, which again is something not required by either state or federal law.

I pointed these things out to him, and he promised to have a supervisor or director call me back to discuss the matter further. The weird thing about all this is that the California tag requirement is only required for SDITs, so the whole issue could be avoided by graduating Glindy to full service dog status.

Personally, I prefer keeping Glindy in SDIT status for the simple reason that people tend to be more forgiving of minor transgressions when they see the "In Training" patch. Also, they are less inquisitive about my own disabilities, because they assume I'm a non-disabled trainer, rather than a disabled handler.

Still, it reopens the whole issue of where the dividing line is between SD and SDIT. Personally, I'm confident that Glindy meets the legal definition of a full-blown SD at this point, but would like her to have more demonstrable tasks--and whine a little less when she's excited--before I take off those training patches.

In fact, I'm not convinced that the presence or absence of those training patches are conclusive evidence either way. Vests and patches are not required by law, so I think a legal case could be made that the wording is neither binding nor relevant to rights enforcement. It's also worth noting that a fully-trained service dog doesn't suddenly become untrained because its patches say "in training," nor does an untrained dog become a service animal just because it lacks a training patch.

At any rate, I'm going to try to get the California tags anyway, as a matter of convenience in allowing me to claim Glindy as an SDIT instead of a SD. But if that doesn't happen, it really changes nothing except the need to be more assertive in the event that I ever need police enforcement under California state law.

I spoke with the head of the Rehabilitation Department today regarding the requirement for proof mentioned in the state laws. He pointed me to some changes reflected in Senate Bill 36 of the 73rd legislative session.

The major changes I found in the newly-revised law are:

• Equal status for service animals in training prohibits are more explicitly spelled out.
• Places of accommodation are explicitly barred from "requiring proof" that an animal is a service animal, but are allowed to ask about task training.
• An expansion of civil damages, allowing for both actual and punitive damages, recovery of attorney's fees, and injunctive relief in addition to other rights under the law.

While some of the language in the law still skews towards those with obvious physical handicaps, my first impression of the new text is that it has come a long way towards addressing the needs of those of us with invisible disabilities and improving our level of public access.

Laws are tricky things. Government agencies are even trickier. I live in a state that has inconsistent laws regarding service animals, and I've been trying to navigate the system to find out what the real story is.

The Nevada Revised Statutes contain conflicting information about service animals. In particular, the 72nd legislative session revised NRS 426.097 to remove approval by the Rehabilitation Division of the Department of Employment, Training and Rehabilitation as part of the definition of "service animal." The revised law brings the definitional criteria of service animal into closer alignment with the Americans with Disabilities Act.

However, NRS 651.075(2) states that places "of public accommodation may require certain proof...[from a school] that is approved by the Rehabilitation Division of the Department of Employment, Training and Rehabilitation to train a service animal," which clearly goes against the legislative intent of the changes to NRS 426.097.

Several calls to the Department have resulted in a vague understanding that the Department doesn't actually oversee this function, does not maintain a list of "approved schools," and is in fact quite surprised by the question. They are currently looking into the matter, and have promised me a response by the end of the day.

Because police enforcement of access rights for SD/SDIT teams relies on local laws (as opposed to federal laws such as the ADA), clarifying this issue is important. Let's hope the system provides the answers that I need, and that other advocates make similar progress elsewhere.

Glindy and I flew to Los Angeles last week for the Doctor Who convention in Los Angeles. We flew on Horizon Air, which operates a number of smaller, regional jets; this fact is somewhat relevant to the description of accommodative seating which follows.

First of all, I called ahead--almost a week ahead, in fact--to request accommodative seating. The ACAA requires at least 24 hours notice, so I made sure to call right after buying the tickets. It's worth noting that this ended up having no impact on the accommodative seating I eventually received, so based on a statistical sampling of one, I'd say that this advanced notice requirement is a necessary step, but not to be relied upon.

The ticketing agents were all very polite, and simply asked if Glindy was my service dog. After that, they started to issue a boarding pass, but did not bring up seating with me. When I reminded them that I needed accommodative seating, they were willing but confused.

First, it turns out that the planes Horizon Air operates in my market do not have any bulkhead seating. All bulkhead seats are emergency exit seats, and 14 CFR 382.55(2) states that service animals may not block aisles or evacuation areas. So, even though I'm physically capable of handling emergency exit activities, neither Glindy nor I are allowed to sit in those rows when we are together.

I requested instead that they block off the seat next to me, so that Glindy would be able to lie at my feet without getting stepped on. The ticketing agents were more than willing to do this on the trip from Reno to Los Angeles (more on the return segment later).

However, when I got to the gate, the gate agents wouldn't acknowledge the new seat assignments. They kept insisting that they needed to wait for all the passengers to check in before they could ask for volunteers to move seats. Legally this isn't the case, but it didn't seem worth arguing about so long as I got what I needed. In the end, it didn't cause us any trouble, but this may be something I need to watch for on future flights.

We did "pre-board," but despite telling them we needed a bit of extra time, they essentially called pre-boarding about ten seconds before general boarding, so we were definitely a bit rushed. This was handled better on the return trip (again, more on that later).

The Horizon Air seat layout is two seats on either side of the aisle, with no middle support bar blocking the space under the seats in front. This was something I had never considered, but turned out to be a real benefit, as it afforded significantly more floor space for Glindy and me.

I guided Glindy into position first, and then sat in the aisle seat. She tried to climb up into the window seat, and had to be encouraged to sit on the floor instead. Later in the flight, Glindy would manage to sprawl out with most of her body under the seats in front of us (something she couldn't have done with a middle support bar), but for take-off I just needed to ensure that she was sitting or laying down out of the aisle.

She was a little nervous at take-off, but was reasonably well-composed throughout the majority of the flight. The only exceptions were my trip to the lavatory, and the final landing.

During my trip to the lavatory, I used an extra collar, a double-ended metal clip, and the seat belt next to me to restrain her while I got up. I buckled the window seat, let it out to its full extension, and then buckled the spare collar around the seat belt, forming a long double loop with a D-ring attachment point. Then I used the metal clip to connect the D-ring of the collar to the D-ring on her harness to ensure she was properly restrained.

I was told by other passengers that she was well-behaved while I was up, but that she never took her eyes off the lavatory door. I was pleased by her patience and calmness, and gave her a lot of petting when I returned to my seat.

She did panic a bit on the landing, but that was largely my fault. She was lying on the floor during the descent, and I didn't want to get her riled up since she seemed so calm. However, when the plane hit the ground for a bumpy landing, she panicked, and tried to run out into the aisle. It took a few minutes to calm her down, and I felt guilty for not taking better steps to prepare her for the landing. I handled things differently on the return flight, naturally.

Overall, it was a great success. I learned some useful things, and we had surprisingly few problems for our maiden voyage together.