Fending off the well-meaning

Sometimes my ideas aren't so brilliant.

Often, when someone comes up and asks to interact with Trooper, my service dog for the deaf, I'll say "No, please don't pet, he's a service dog and he's working."

This doesn't always do the job. Sometimes people don't understand my deaf speech. Sometimes (especially the elderly) they're rather deaf themselves and just don't hear what I say.

And so for such events I came up with the business card at right. I didn't want to use the words "No" or "Don't" because some folks take offense at blunt and negative statements. "Should avoid distractions" ought to do the trick, don't you think?

Then the other day a sweet old lady stopped at my table in a local coffee shop and bent down over Trooper. Before she could touch him I plucked the card from a pocket on his service-dog vest and handed it to her. She took it, examined it carefully, beamed and said, "How sweet!"—then stooped and petted him.

Either she was illiterate or a couple of Milk-Bones short of a feeding, I thought. Then I realized that the gentle language might not have triggered proper understanding in her elderly mind.

And so I am going to revise and simplify the message:

WORKING SERVICE DOG

PLEASE DO NOT PET

Maybe that will do the job, in-your-face as it is.

Meanwhile, on the other side of the business card is the scheme at right. I figure it'll please curious folks who either can't hear me or understand my speech. It might even persuade hostile business owners that Trooper is a legitimate service dog.

Of course it may suggest to people that I'm just not capable of conversation. That's a phenomenon every deaf person must deal with.

Goes with the territory.

A small step forward

Until now I had read of no actual cases in which someone was arrested and charged under a criminal complaint with violating federal law by refusing access to a service dog team.

Most such unhappy encounters are handled quietly by the U.S. Justice Department and state civil rights offices, and are usually settled with the offending party agreeing to be educated on the law as well as to sin no more.

Now a criminal penny has at last dropped.

According to the Associated Press, a Uber driver in Orlando, Florida, was arrested and charged the other day for two misdemeanor infractions. He allegedly refused service to a blind man and his guide dog, and in driving away jostled the blind man with his car. (No injuries reported.)

The two charges: Violating Florida civil rights laws about service animals—and battery.

I doubt that the cops would have charged the driver with refusing service (both a federal and state offense) if he hadn't bumped the blind person. Usually they inform offending parties of ADA responsibilities and if they agree to change their ways, the matter is dropped and nobody's nose is out of joint.

Whether this case will actually go to court remains to be seen. If that happens, I'll wager the magistrate will drop the service-dog case if the Uberman shows contrition. I don't know about the battery charge. If the driver persuades the judge that he didn't intend to strike the blind man, he may get off with probation and a small fine.

That won't be a bad thing at all. The best outcome of these newsmaking cases, in my opinion, is widespread publicity that educates businesses and everyone else about ADA protections for people with disabilities. Including stories like this one out of Orlando.

Paperwork, paperwork, paperwork!

Taking a short week's cruise in the Caribbean is a lot more complicated when traveling with a service dog. For Trooper, I must obtain not only routine paperwork but also items specific to almost every port of call—even if we'll be ashore there only six to eight hours.

We start with an international animal health certificate issued by the U.S. Department of Agriculture. Fortunately, my vet in Evanston is USDA-certified and knows how to fill it out and get it stamped by the USDA. There are boxes for immunizations and the like. The vet knows about my trip and will give Trooper a checkup and provide the certificate a week or so before we go.

Before then, I must contact the animal services departments of each island on my own.

The first port of call will be Grand Turk in the Turks and Caicos Islands. They're very tough on furry visitors, for the islands are rabies-free and want to keep it that way. As well as the international health certificate, they require that the animal be microchipped (Trooper already is) and that it undergo expensive blood titer tests for possible rabies. If the animal's paperwork is not in order, it must quickly depart—or be euthanized.

I've decided we'll  stay aboard ship instead of jumping through those hoops and maybe having to deal with difficult Turks and Caicos officials, as attested to by several comments on pet travel Web sites.

Next comes San Juan in Puerto Rico, a U.S. commonwealth. The international health certificate is sufficient for us to go ashore. No titer test necessary.

Entering Sint Maarten is a little more complex. It requires that the health certificate and evidence of vaccination be sent to its agriculture department well before arrival and an import permit issued for the animal. No charge, though.

Half Moon Cay is wholly owned by Holland-America, the cruise line we're taking, but we still need a Bahamas import permit, which costs $15 and expires ten days after it is issued.

The voyage itself is only a week long, but Trooper and I have to leave Chicago on the train exactly 11 days before the permit expires. I'm not sure we'll land at Half Moon Cay unless I'm able to persuade the Bahamians to issue a one-day extension.

All this gives me new respect for human members of service dog teams who take long international cruises to dozens of countries and have to deal with all that paperwork and officialdom.