Last week, we shared a post about our spring garden kick-off and a little life update, including how Luna accompanied us to an appointment at the allergy and asthma office, something we were given express permission to do. To be respectful of other patients, Luna stayed in the waiting room with her other mama (my partner), instead of coming with me into the exam room. This was a thoughtful choice made not because it was required, but because we care about our community.
Unfortunately, a particularly cruel comment came through in response. It included slurs and misinformation about my disability and Luna’s role. I’ve chosen not to repost it in full, because that kind of language has no place here- much less anywhere but, I do feel it’s important to clarify a few things.
Luna is my medical alert service dog. She is not an accessory. She is not a pet I decided to bring along “just for fun” or because I want “attention” like the commenter stated. She is a trained working dog who helps manage a multitude of serious medical conditions, including seizures and heart rate fluctuations. For me, Luna is as necessary as my wheelchair, cane, or walker. -the difference here, is that I am an ambulatory wheelchair user, my cane and walker can be left in the car when my pain and mobility aren’t “so bad” or I can push through. Both things, have costs- Luna, however, does something no cane, wheelchair, or walker can, there is no app, or magical little device that can warn you ahead of a migraine, a seizure, or a heart rate spike. There is, however, a starry eyed pup who can do it for me.
So, let me be clear: I did not have to leave Luna in the waiting room. Under the Americans with Disabilities Act (ADA), I have every right to bring her into that office with me. But I chose not to, out of consideration for others. And yes, while I had full permission from my care team to bring her, I still went out of my way to do so because sometimes if you can, I feel like it is the right thing to choose kindness. This commenter, however, did not choose kindness, they chose hatred. Some of these staff have known me for over a decade—they’ve watched me struggle, and they’ve watched me thrive with Luna by my side. So, it was my idea to invite them to the waiting room, where I had left her- safely, to introduce them to the pup who had given my life back.
As a service dog, it is my right, under the ADA for my service dog to accompany me almost everywhere that I go. This means that she will most likely see the ins and outs of plenty of doctor’s offices, and so I chose this one- not because it is an allergy and asthma office but, because this is the office that I have been going to the longest. These are the staff members who know me the best, and have been taking care of me through diagnosis after diagnosis, through medical trauma, grief, and loss… and finding myself again with Luna’s help. I want her to be comfortable, and neutral around my care team, and know that they are safe people, and not going to hurt me- especially when it is in an office where I’m often getting allergy shots.
So, when someone implied that Luna must be a “fake” because she was present in a medical space where someone might have allergies, and because I allowed her to be visited by some of the staff- my personal care team who again have been taking care of me for a decade I was floored. But being uncomfortable around dogs, or even allergic to them, does not negate my federally protected right to bring a trained service animal into public spaces, including medical offices. Had Luna been disruptive, yes, she could have been asked to leave—just like any other service animal under ADA law. But she wasn’t. She did her job, quietly and professionally.
What many don’t realize is that service dogs aren’t robots. They’re dogs, living beings with off-hours, personalities, and training that often includes knowing the difference between “work mode” and “free time.” Luna knows her cues. She knows when her gear is on, it’s time to focus. She also knows when she’s given permission to relax, and how to switch between the two. This flexibility is part of her training.
We don’t owe anyone more proof than that. Not all service dogs come from programs. Many are trained by their disabled handlers. Some handlers, like me, tailor training to our exact needs. That doesn’t make our dogs less valid, or our needs less real. What is real is the way Luna has helped me reclaim independence, confidence, and peace of mind that chronic illness once took from me.
We’ll continue to show up- in doctors’ offices, grocery stores, museums, zoos, and anywhere else life takes us. Luna’s presence is a part of how I exist in the world safely and fully.
If you’re curious about service dog etiquette or ADA rights, I encourage you to check out resources from the ADA National Network. If you’re new here and want to learn more about Luna’s journey, you’ll find posts scattered across this blog and on my social media.
To the person who sent that message: I truly hope you find the help and healing you need. But this blog will always be a safe space—for disabled folks, for those learning, and for those still figuring it all out.
With heart and resilience,
Sky (& Luna, curled up and napping beside me)
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