This story is a capstone project by CU Boulder’s News Corps students Lauren Schaffler, Natalie Coniglio, and Sophie Schnoll.
It’s a normal day for University of Colorado Boulder student Emma Lowery as she walks through the decorated halls of the Engineering Center to use the bathroom before class. But unlike most other students, Lowery is not alone as she enters the restroom stall. Rather, she’s accompanied by Sunflower, her yellow Labrador Retriever service dog in training.
Once inside the handicapped stall with Sunflower, Lowery noticed another student entering the stall next to her followed by her non-service dog, a small Pomeranian, who began barking and lunging toward Sunflower. This poses no immediate threat to any other student, but for Lowery and Sunflower, this moment could drastically change their lives. If the non-working dog had bitten Sunflower, it could have caused an injury jeopardizing Sunflower’s ability to perform as a service dog, risking retirement from training altogether.
Attempting to justify the Pomeranian’s behavior, its owner pleaded to Lowery that her animal simply wanted to play and say hello.
“I had to explain that, no, my dog’s a working dog. She can’t play right now,” Lowery said. “And even if she could, that dog does not want to play. That dog wants to bite.”
Lowery is one of the devoted members of Collar Scholars at CU Boulder, who undertake the important task of nurturing and training puppies from Canine Companions, shaping them into highly skilled service animals.
According to the Purple Heart Foundation, a nonprofit working toward the care of veterans, about 50-70% of dogs picked for service animal training fail out of the program. Instances like Lowery’s restroom experience can cause training service animals to become timid, reactive or even aggressive, causing them to fail. These situations have become more common over the past several years, as loose regulations and inadequate education have shepherded more untrained pets into public spaces.
Service animals are highly trained professionals capable of detecting various complex medical conditions. They’re not pets to be casually played with or smiled at; rather, undivided attention on their handler is required.
“You can buy a vest off Amazon, but the vest doesn’t make the dog, the training does,” Lowery said.
The COVID-19 pandemic adoption boom saw 23 million households welcome a new furry friend to their family. Over 13% of these animals were adopted by first-time pet parents, and 41% were adopted for emotional support. This caused a surge of inexperienced owners and a jump in the number of people seeking emotional support animal status for their pets. With this massive rise in registrations came a wave of misunderstanding and a lack of education surrounding ESAs, service animals and the important distinction between the two.
Unlike ESAs, service animals are specifically trained to perform tasks that assist individuals with disabilities and are legally permitted in public spaces. In contrast, ESAs are pets that provide comfort to individuals with mental health conditions as prescribed by a medical professional but do not have the same public access rights as service animals.
“There are a lot of invisible disabilities,” Lowery said. “There are a lot of people who do genuinely need a service dog, [but] it’s not trendy to have a service dog.”
Mei Lan Neece, a 22-year-old recent graduate student, found herself grappling with anxiety and depression amid the challenging circumstances of the COVID-19 pandemic. As Neece and her psychiatrist explored her mental illness and its daily effects, they discovered the potential of animal companionship to bring about positive change in her life. This realization motivated Neece to adopt Rosie, a three-year-old Bernedoodle, as her companion.
“She’s not doing tasks that are saving me from death,” Neece said. “She’s making me go outside. I’m not rotting away in my room, I have a purpose and structure.”
Thanks to Rosie’s status as a psychiatric-approved service animal, Neece can accompany her into public spaces without trouble. Rosie is well-trained and rarely poses any problems when around other dogs, in classrooms or at restaurants. However, according to CU Boulder’s regulations, Rosie technically isn’t permitted inside campus buildings. Neece has encountered issues with faculty and staff, largely due to their lack of awareness and the leniency of accessibility regulations on campus.
“A lot of professors don’t know that they have the right to ask a dog that is clearly misbehaving and not a service dog, to leave. I had a time where there was a dog in my class who would bark and howl and run around and people would pet it,” Lowery recalls. “It had a service dog vest on, but based on behavior, it was very clearly not.”
Since the ADA does not require service dogs to undergo any kind of official training or paperwork, there can be uncertainty about what qualifies one as legitimate. Depending on location and an owner’s specific needs, fees up to $50,000 have incentivized many Colorado occupants to self-train their own service animals. Service and ESA vests are easily available on popular marketplaces like Amazon, eBay, and other commercialized websites, providing easy access to anyone in need.
“You don’t have to register service dogs, you don’t have to have paperwork,” said Rake. “You can get a vest anywhere and it doesn’t mean anything.”
This uncertainty can lead to establishments adopting a universal rule of refusing entry to all animals as a precautionary measure, as noted by Natalie Rake, a student at CU Boulder and former service dog trainer for Guide Dogs for the Blind. Rake indicated that certified service animals can go into any public establishment without question, while service animals in training and ESAs can be refused entry.
Over time, Rake and the Guide Dogs for the Blind organization observed a recurring issue: being turned away from numerous establishments because of “individuals who bring in their completely untrained dogs and allow them to roam freely.”
Rake recalled an incident when she and her service animal in training were in a grocery store and a small dog on a retractable leash charged at them. Such situations prove highly distracting for the service animal in training, not just due to the unfamiliar environment but also because even a moment’s diversion from attending to their handler could have dire consequences.
“Education is the biggest solution and trying to help people understand that service dogs are medical equipment,” Lowery said. “They’re there to mitigate a disability to help their handler.”
Groups like Collar Scholars are working to educate the masses on proper identification, training and etiquette for service dogs and ESAs. They hope to influence their communities to view the life-saving medical equipment in a new way. By incorporating this knowledge into education, individuals would not only gain a deeper understanding of the professionalism of service animals but also develop a greater appreciation for accessibility as a fundamental aspect of society.
“I have been fortunate enough that I have been able to advocate for my dog,” Lowery said. “But there are times where you don’t see it coming or you can’t pick up your dog or whatever, which is why it is so important to not have pets in places they shouldn’t be.”
Still, there are ways to counteract these ongoing issues. Revitalizing the service animal industry will demand joint efforts, with a shared responsibility among institutions, owners and animals. The most prominent answer is mass education. Accessibility shouldn’t be limited to those who require it because of the ignorance of those who don’t.