WHAT A WEEKEND

The past few weeks have been very busy I haven't had time to post. Two events happened this weekend that I don't ever want to experience again.

My son had a high school football game out of town Friday night. After enjoying out with family and friends we headed to the field. I was more worried about rain than getting around that I brought my umbrella instead of my cane. The game was at a large public stadium with a security station like an airport. I was the last one to go through the metal detector. Everyone with me had gone ahead. As I was walking I could see that the field was designed in the bottom of the hill.  I took about four steps then noticed there was a "slop" ahead. At that point I thought the two metal bands in the concrete indicated steps. I stepped forward and before I knew it I was tumbling downward. The metal band was in the middle of the two steps instead of at the end. My family and the staff ran to help me "up" on my feet. My husband said "give her a few a few minutes". He was right I was still in shock. At times I feel self-conscious of having to carry a cane since I can see some out of the left eye but this is the last time I will leave it at home when I'm somewhere I haven't been before.  After a few minutes I was ready to watch the game. My son's team won the game and he scored 4 point as kicker.

Saturday we were at our local soccer tournament. I took my cane this time.  I did need it out at the field because we had to park by the woods. Sunday we were at soccer again. I also had my cane. We were watching the first game from the side line. It was almost half time. I had a hat on to protect my eyes from the sun because the were burning from all the sun and dust from the day before. I even used an ice pack the night before. As I was watching the game I saw something to my right / blind side. What I heard next was swoosh, pop and crunch as the soccer ball hit my face, eye and nose. My sweet husband came to  my rescue again. He ran to the first aid tent for a bag of ice. Someone handed me some Advil. The rest of the game I sat with a bag of ice on my face. The poor boy that kick the ball did apologize to me. For the next game and the rest of the season I'll be sitting at least six feet away from the side line.  

What an exciting weekend. 

T-Ball and Beyond

Editor’s Note: Mike Uhle and his wife, Keisha, became acquainted with the NFB shortly after their son, Ryan, lost his vision as a toddler. Despite their grief, they didn’t waste any time reaching out to get information. I met them at a retreat for parents sponsored by the National Organization of Parents of Blind Children and the National Federation of the Blind of South Carolina. A few years after the retreat, they sent me an article about Ryan playing T-Ball, and we reprinted it in Future Reflections, Volume 22, Number 2, under the title, “T-Ball Rules! Father Shares Passion for Baseball with his Blind Son.” That was five years ago. I wondered if that experience had meant much to Ryan and his family over time. So, we contacted Mike and asked him if he wanted to give us an update, and he did. So, here is our “Then and Now” story--the original T-Ball article followed by Mike’s reflection on that experience and the impact it had on the father-son bond:
THEN…..

Through his father’s eyes
Rob Novit, staff writer
Reprinted from the May 5, 2002, Aiken Standard, Aiken, South Carolina

The players, all of four-, five-, and six-years-old, race onto the field at Graniteville’s Gregg Park--a spring in their step, their caps pulled low to protect against a late afternoon sun that tinges their matching red shirts with an orange glow. It’s a timeless moment in small town USA and of course it’s about baseball, a game only a few decades younger than America itself.
In short right, a small boy named Ryan Uhle pounds his glove and places himself in good position. Nearby, his dad Mike soaks it all in proudly, smiling and laughing with uncomplicated delight. Mike Uhle was a multi-sport athlete at Aiken High as a teenager, but baseball was always his thing. And years later, when his wife Keisha gave birth to their first child, Mike held Ryan in his arms and could envision a future for his son a lot like his own.
“I had definitely wanted a boy so he could play sports,” said Mike. “I love baseball and when the TV is on, I’d rather watch baseball than anything else.”
Without warning
Ryan was just six months old when he was diagnosed with retinal cancer and in the course of treatment over the next year, his right eye was removed. The prognosis for the left eye was very good, but a large tumor appeared unexpectedly when Ryan was two. During chemotherapy his retina detached and could not be repaired. The little boy had beaten the cancer, much to the relief and joy of his parents. But now they had to accept a new reality.
“Even with this form of cancer, we never imagined Ryan would be blind,” said Keisha Uhle. “We just thought he would be a one-eyed kid the rest of life. We had a plan in our heads of how we hoped our child’s life would be and then our expectations totally changed.” The couple knew as much about blindness as most other people, which was virtually nothing. But they did research and sought activities that might be suitable for Ryan.
Moving forward
Last year they discovered STAR, a therapeutic horseback-riding program for children and young adults with disabilities. That experience gave Ryan confidence and so did the violin classes that Mike and Keisha arranged through instructor Joanne Stanford. He attends preschool kindergarten at St. John’s United Methodist Church and a preschool class at Aiken Elementary. Ryan will start a regular 5K class at Aiken Elementary in the fall.
Baseball--or at this age, T-ball--was seemingly out of the question, but Wendy Scolamiero, the Oakwood-Windsor physical education teacher, didn’t think so. A close friend of Keisha and Mike, Scolamiero knew they wanted to find as many regular childhood activities for Ryan as possible. Her own son, Clark, played T-ball at Gregg Park for a volunteer coach named Mike Conaway. Last year Scolamiero told him about Ryan and asked if the youngster could join the team this spring.
Conaway was all for it, but Mike Uhle had his doubts. “We were a little hesitant at first,” he said. “It was like ‘Oh man, is he going to be able to do this?’ We didn’t want to be an inconvenience to everybody else. But Ryan never had any hesitation and the first day of practice convinced us it was the right thing to do.”
One of the players
Of all the kids on Ryan’s team, maybe three can throw the ball with any reasonable accuracy and perhaps the same number have some expectation of catching those throws. The rest are endearingly clueless as they stand in the field admiring their uniforms and their gloves and waving occasionally to their parents and siblings and their teammates.
Ryan sees none of this. But from his right field position, he has his father’s eyes. Mike stands next to him the entire inning. An errant throw comes toward them and Mike scoops up the ball and hands it to Ryan, who flings it within hailing distance of first base. Everybody cheers. “Way to go, Ryan.”
But Mike offers much more than a helping hand. He serves as Ryan’s personal color commentator, describing the game to his son as if Ryan were listening to him on the radio. In this T-ball league, one of the coaches pitches three times to each player; if the child doesn’t hit the ball, the tee is then used.
“The coach is telling the batter what to do,” Mike tells Ryan. “He pitched it and the batter missed it, and he’ll hit off the tee this time. Show me you’re getting ready. Hey, that’s a good job, buddy.” The batter sends a slow roller between short and third and reaches first safely. Ryan leans toward his dad and says slyly, “I caught a ball.” Mike just grins. “Oh get out of here.”
The game continues and Mike yells out encouragement to the other players. The next hitter swings and misses, fouls off a pitch and then whiffs on the next one. “But he looked like he was going to hit it this way,” says Mike. “What are you going to do if you get it?”
“Throw it to Clark,” Ryan responds immediately, “But what if he doesn’t yell for me?”
“Throw it anyway, because you might not be able to hear him with all the cheering.”
Another father, Morgan Stringfield, said he too wondered at first how Ryan would handle the situation. “But when I saw how Mike interacted with him and taught him how to do different things,” said Strickland, “I was surprised at how well Ryan was doing. It’s a neat thing for my son Logan too. He understands that Ryan can’t see and why Mike is out there to help him play the game. Logan realizes that just because someone has a disability doesn’t mean he can’t do things like everyone else.”
Ryan remains eligible to play again next season and has been invited to stick around an extra year if he wants to. His baseball career will likely end as his buddies move on to coach-pitch and beyond.
And next?
Wendy Scolamiero has been looking into other programs for Ryan and has contacted Chukker Creek P. E. teacher Dr. Bonnie Bucket, an authority on special needs students and physical fitness. Track and field is a good choice, as there are blind runners who compete with the assistance of sighted companions. But for now, baseball rules. Mike Conaway said he too has been amazed at Ryan’s success. A bonus is that some of the players including his son, Alex, are relatively shy. But they realized they have to call out to Ryan so he can locate them. “That has really helped them come out of their shells,” said Conaway. “They understand Ryan’s special needs and that’s been great.”
It’s the second and final inning and Ryan’s team comes to bat. He waits patiently for his turn, listening to the chatter of talkative teammates and the shouts and applause of family and friends. He has his own gallery--Keisha and his grandparents, two-year-old sister Natalie and new brother Jared, not yet three-months-old. Finally, it’s his turn. Mike hands a bat to Ryan, who eagerly walks to the plate. Mike sets the tee with the ball and positions Ryan, giving him an idea of the ball’s location and its height. Moments later, Mike barely has time to take a step back when Ryan swings. He connects! A hard grounder sails toward short and father and son take off in tandem, Mike running backwards and calling out to Ryan, who races toward him and reaches first safely.
“Good job, buddy!” Keisha screams happily from the stands. Natalie dashes away from her and hurls herself against the fence. “Go Ryan!” the tiny girl yells. The players behind Ryan also hit the ball and he eventually comes around to score. Not that anybody is actually keeping score, not for kids this age.
Natalie may join Ryan on the team next season, providing another set of eyes. Maybe someday she’ll sing or dance or play a musical instrument. It’s likely that Jared will participate in sports like his dad did a generation earlier. Ryan undoubtedly will serve as the supportive big brother for both kids.
But he’ll find his own niche, his parent said. And best of all, said Keisha, he’ll go to baseball contests with his dad. Thanks to the T-ball experience, Ryan will have a better grasp of the game. It’s all about the layout and rules and perhaps even more, the atmosphere--the National Anthem, the feel of a bat on the hands, the rust-colored clay blotches on the uniforms. And Ryan Uhle has been right in the middle of it. “It’s been fantastic to be out here with my son,” Mike said.
NOW…..
Mike Uhle….
I’m not sure who got more out of Ryan’s playing T-ball for three years: him or me. I grew up playing sports and am still an avid sports fan. When Ryan lost his vision at two-and-a-half years old, I felt that my dreams of having a son that I could play and enjoy sports with were over before they ever began. I was wrong.
Ryan was good at hitting and in each of his three years of T-ball was in the top half of the team in his ability to hit the ball. Those three years helped Ryan develop self-confidence. At an early age he learned that he was just as good as any other kids. That self-confidence carried over to his schoolwork, his ability to make friends, and his being independent. Ryan also gained a much better sense for the game by wearing the uniform, getting dirty, feeling what it is like to hit the ball solid, running the bases as fast as you can, being in the dugout, and giving your teammates high fives.
While his days of playing organized baseball are over, Ryan still enjoys our family baseball games out in the yard and going with me to baseball games. We love to watch our local single A baseball team, the Augusta Greenjackets. I get a thrill in giving him play-by-plays, and teaching him more about the games. Ryan thinks it’s cool to learn more about the game, and he gets so excited by the great sounds in a baseball game: the crack of the bat, the umpire’s calls, the pop of the glove, the fans cheering, the vendor selling hot dogs, and the PA system with its funny sound effect are just a few. Ryan also has another team to cheer for, the Cardinals, his little brother Jared’s T-ball team.
Ryan likes other sports, too. He regularly watches high school, college, and pro-football with me. For his last birthday, Ryan took a buddy to a minor league hockey game and we sat right up on the glass. It’s great to have my son with me to share the excitement of the games, and it is special to be able to describe to him what is going on.
Ryan is ten years old now and is very active in other sports. He loves going golfing with me and riding in the cart. When the course isn’t crowded, I let Ryan hit balls in the fairway. We practice golf in our front yard and Ryan will be taking golf lessons this summer. Other favorite activities are swimming (he spends almost every day in the summer in his grandparents’ pool), and riding his bike and scooter. He makes his mom and dad nervous with the speed that he travels, but there is just no holding him back. He gets more than his share of cuts and bruises (and stitches…ugh). You would be hard pressed to find a tougher ten-year-old.
Even if Ryan had never played T-ball, I think he would still be the active and self-confident person he is today; but man, am I glad we both had that experience. I encourage all parents of blind children--especially fathers--to get their kids out there to participate with sighted kids in sports. It benefits everyone--the kid, the teammates, and you

Guide dog helps teen navigate high school

At the age of 5, Ryan Uhle played tee-ball, which was a pretty amazing achievement since the small boy lost his sight to ocular cancer three years earlier.

His father Mike would join Ryan in short right field and stand next to the tee during his son’s at-bats, providing ongoing radio-like commentary. Ryan could see the ballpark and the action around him through his father’s eyes.

Ryan, now 14, spent Monday morning at Aiken High, where he will enroll as a freshman next week.

He was accompanied by Sandy, who has brought him a new set of eyes. Ryan obtained the 2-year-old Labernese guide dog a few weeks ago. Sandy is a mix of Labrador retriever and Bernese mountain dog. He and Ryan play with each other at home, but when the harness is on, Sandy is all business.

It will take six months, Ryan said, for he and Sandy to become best friends. Yet they were well on their way to being pals Monday, amicably walking around the expansive Aiken High campus with itinerant vision teacher Denise Hyman.

“When I switch classes, he will guide me to the next class,” Ryan said. “The first time I took him around the school, he was memorizing the route. I am kind of concerned that he (Sandy) will forget where to go, but he’ll figure it out, probably within a month. Starting high school will be a little different, but I’m ready for this.”

By the way, Sandy isn’t the dog’s real name. It’s a kind of make-do name, because hearing his given name at school could distract Sandy from his real job, which is guiding Ryan.

Sandy is also a foreigner, a recent transplant from Montreal. Ryan’s instructions to him have to be in French, because that’s the language in which Sandy was trained.

Ryan always has been remarkably active, encouraged to embrace life by parents Mike and Keisha Uhle.

He has been involved in martial arts and has played the cello at Schofield for the past three years. The only reason Ryan hasn’t enrolled in Aiken High’s strings program is that he is taking six honors classes this year, including biology and German II. Ryan actually contends that his memory is not that great.

“He’s being modest,” said Keisha, shaking her head. “His memory is phenomenal.”

Hyman has worked with Ryan since he was in the fourth grade. He has long used a cane to get around but got tired of that and also of asking friends to escort him around Schofield Middle School.

Ryan has received services through the S.C. School for the Deaf and Blind’s outreach program and specialist Carolyn Cain.

“His specialist trains Ryan within the community on safety and mobility issues,” Hyman said. “Carolyn realized Ryan was mature enough and had the skills to have a dog.”

However, no organization within the United States would provide a dog for any teenager under 16. Keisha then discovered MIRA Canada in Montreal.

Ryan had always talked about a guide dog, but now he was hesitant. So he and his dad visited a MIRA USA site in Pinehurst, N.C., and Ryan got the opportunity to understand what it would be like to get a dog “and that was pretty cool,” he said.

He and his mom attended the summer session in Montreal but had to wait several days before Ryan and Sandy were introduced to each other. Finally, Ryan got to meet his new friend – as did eight other young people that day.

“It was an extremely emotional moment for us,” said Keisha. “I wanted to go up there and hug the dog.”

But she did not and never will.

Sandy is literally Ryan’s dog, and no one else will ever play with him or pet him or even talk to him.

That’s an adjustment for Ryan’s parents and younger siblings, Natalie and Jared.

However, the kids do have a family dog, Bo, 6, who stays outside in the backyard. Bo and Sandy have met and have agreed for now to keep their distance.

Aiken High Principal Garen Cofer is excited about this new opportunity.

“We’re just thrilled that we can meet Ryan’s needs,” Cofer said “We’re rolling out the red carpet for him and want to accommodate him in anyway we can.”

Aug.7-13 is International Assistance Dog Week, created to recognize all assistance dogs that work with people with disabilities. For more information, visit www.assistancedogweek.org.

Learning the routine: Ryan Uhle, an Aiken High freshman, and his new guide dog, Sandy, take a walk around the expansive campus to help each other learn where Ryan’s classes are. Blind since the age of 2, Ryan obtained Sandy in Canada this summer.

UNLEASHIING HOPE

Unleashing hope

July 2011

BY JAN A. IGOE

Amanda Bennett spent almost three years waiting for her perfect match. Tall and handsome with a great sense of humor, he was everything she’d hoped for, right down to his wet nose and wagging tail.

Rheumatoid arthritis has kept Bennett in a wheelchair since second grade. The 22-yearold Grand Strand artist is one of 50 million Americans facing life with a disability. Only a fortunate few will find help from a tasktrained service dog like Zebulon, a 4-year-old labradoodle trained to lend a paw with everyday chores.

“He can pull the laundry basket and help me load the washer and put clothes in the dryer,” says Bennett. “It’s a big help with my back.”

Zebbie, as Bennett likes to call her new best friend, hasn’t strayed far from her side since their May introduction. Before being matched with her companion by Carolina Canines for Service, Inc., a nonprofit group that provides free service dogs to people with disabilities, Bennett filled out a detailed application and provided video of her typical day and all its obstacles. Zebbie fit the bill because he’s powerful enough to pull her wheelchair and open heavy doors, but passive enough to stand aside during MRIs and medical exams.


At home, he loves to close drawers and cabinets in Bennett’s kitchen, even when she’s still figuring out what’s in them for dinner. Bennett can’t bring herself to correct Zebbie when he’s clearly tickled with his accomplishment, so she just ends up laughing. Like any good relationship, they are a work in progress.

Besides the myriad physical tasks he performs on command, Zebbie’s presence also breaches the silent social boundaries often encountered by people using wheelchairs. “Some people hurt my feelings when they stare and whisper,” Bennett says.

“With Zebbie, I kind of open up a little more. And people aren’t looking at me, they’re looking at the dog and they’re more friendly.” 

Looking for a few good mutts

In addition to assisting people with mobility impairments, service dogs can help autistic children connect with the world, detect the presence of peanuts for someone with a life-threatening allergy, and help battle-scarred veterans ward off anxiety attacks.

Finding the right dogs and training them to perform dozens of specialized tasks is a slow, meticulous process that can take years and often falls to determined and dedicated nonprofit organizations. Relying on volunteer networks of breeders, trainers and donors, organizations like Carolina Canines, Columbia-based Palmetto Animal Assisted Life Services (PAALS) and North Myrtle Beach-based Canine Angels are unleashing hope for South Carolinians in need, one dog at a time.

To meet the ever-growing demand for service animals, trainers and evaluators routinely troll shelters in search of dogs with the right physical attributes and, most importantly, the right temperament. About 80 to 90 percent of Carolina Canines’ working dogs are rescues, but even for the most promising candidates, success isn’t guaranteed.

“It takes a really special dog to survive the shelter and remain happy-go-lucky,” says Marianna Thompson, a trainer who once logged countless hours scouring South Carolina shelters for Carolina Canines. Some dogs are too shy or startle too easily. Others don’t seem to want a steady day job. “You have to see if they have the inclination to work,” she says.

Besides biddable dispositions, service dogs need strong hips and elbows. Any hint of dysplasia or arthritis will rule them out. Trainers generally have X-rays taken at regular intervals during the dog’s development. “About 40 percent of the dogs won’t make it to final placements, mostly due to hip issues,” says Pat Hairston, of Carolina Canines.

Pups with the right stuff typically spend 18 to 24 months in foster care with volunteers who socialize them, gradually introduce them to new experiences and help train them to perform common tasks. It’s a long-term commitment that makes foster families hard to come by. Investing time and energy on a dog that’s going to end up loving someone else doesn’t appeal to everyone, although some volunteers say it’s like sending a successful child off to college.

For 20 months, the Roskow family of Murrells Inlet fostered a lab pup named Eve and attended weekly group-training sessions with other foster families. After advanced training, Eve went on to assist a wounded veteran. “Training Eve began a new adventure for the family,” says Ann Roskow, who has dealt with disability in her own family. “You get excited when she learns something new and satisfaction seeing her go on to help somebody else.”

Service dogs are expected to be well behaved in every environment and to perform their jobs unobtrusively, so the training standards are necessarily high. Even late in the process, a dog may be cut for a variety of reasons. Carolina Canines had high hopes for Titus, a bright and agreeable Labrador retriever, until they discovered that screaming children distressed him, which immediately disqualified him as a service dog. “If you’re a mom in a restaurant and your toddler crawls across the floor, you want to know that someone’s dog is not going to launch out from under a table and do something inappropriate,” Hairston says. But the training didn’t go to waste. Titus became an ambassador for Carolina Canines and now delights minor league baseball fans at the Charleston RiverDogs home games by retrieving bats.

Second chances all around

Some organizations, including Palmetto Animal Assisted Life Services, have found success training service animals by partnering with prisons. Since 2009, inmates at Kershaw Correctional Institute have helped train PAALS service dogs. Carolina Canines forged a unique partnership with the Naval Consolidated Brig in Charleston, where inmates help train dogs exclusively for wounded warriors. Because inmates can work with the dogs around the clock, training time is often cut in half. The brig program has also had a positive impact on the inmates, says Chief Warrant Officer John Nolan.

“I’ve been able to take former troublemakers and give them a shot [as trainers],” he says. “For the most part, they completely turn around.”


Even with inmates and foster families on the case, training service dogs is a marathon, not a sprint, and the long wait for a match sometimes prompts beleaguered consumers to deal with fly-by-night suppliers. Jen Rogers, founder and executive director of PAALS, has seen buyers get scammed online and off, by people peddling service dogs, allegedly trained and ready to assist. But reputable organizations don’t work on a first-come, first-served basis and trained dogs aren’t stacked up in inventory. Matching the right dog with its life partner is a slow, painstaking process, she says.

“People buy a service dog and have it shipped. Then it damages their house and bites their kids,” says Rogers. “They want a quick fix and that’s not the way it works.”

She recommends those in need of a service dog look for organizations that are affiliated with Assistance Dogs International (ADI), a coalition of nonprofit training organizations. Potential handlers should also speak with clients, attend training sessions, and understand the terms of all agreements related to the animal. Reputable agencies usually retain ownership of their valuable working dogs. If an animal is mistreated, the organization will take the dog back. And when a relationship doesn’t work out through no fault of the handler, the nonprofit will pursue another match.

Homegrown helper

Golden retrievers and Labradors are usually the top choices of service dog trainers, but no breed is excluded. Under the right conditions, even a disruptive pet can be trained to become a service animal.

While other 16 year olds were fretting about prom dates and summer jobs, Ben Lay was wondering how long Ewing’s Sarcoma would take to kill him. Nine months of chemotherapy and weeks of radiation granted him a two-year reprieve, but the rare and ruthless bone cancer returned with a vengeance. At 18, the formerly athletic teen underwent perilous surgical procedures that saved his life, but cost him the use of his right leg, which Lay says he swings “like a peg-leg pirate” when he walks.

His former fiancé had bought him a pewter pit bull pup named Rahja. Once tiny enough to fit in cupped hands, the dog quickly exploded into 70-plus pounds of unrestrained muscle, too powerful for an owner with precarious balance to handle. Lay was almost resigned to giving her up until a chance meeting with Rick Kaplan of Canine Angels. Kaplan’s non-profit trains service dogs exclusively for injured veterans, but he agreed to help Lay train Rahja—with the implicit understanding that success was far from guaranteed.

“Rahja … was uncontrollable and completely untrained,” says Kaplan, who entered into a month-long, often physical contest of wills with the dog. “It wasn’t a pretty sight.”

Working with Kaplan for three hours every night, Lay watched Rahja evolve from coucheating beast to well-mannered service dog in training that now accompanies him almost everywhere. Rahja has already learned to retrieve anything Lay drops and bring him things at night, so he won’t have to strap on his cumbersome leg brace. The experience has made Lay a passionate advocate for service animals.

“It’s a total story of second chances all the way around,” he says. “Once you have a service dog, you almost feel like keeping her to yourself is a waste. You want to help others find out how to get them.” Bennett is equally eager to share Zebbie with the world. He’s already opened more doors than she could have imagined. “Thank you all! And especially everyone involved at Carolina Canines and those who raised and trained Zeb,” she wrote on the organization’s Facebook page. “I cannot express how much this means to me. It truly is the greatest gift—a new start for me.”

Service dogs- where to get started

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July 2011

Learn more

These organizations always need volunteers to help foster dogs, raise funds and spread the word in South Carolina about their programs and services. They also accept applications from individuals with disabilities who need service dogs. Contact them for more specifics.

Carolina Canines for Service, Inc.
P.O. Box 12643
1200 N. 23rd Street, Suite 101
Wilmington, NC 28405
Phone: (910) 362-8181
Email: pat@carolinacanines.org
Home page: carolinacanines.org

Canine Angels, Inc.
98 Shadow Moss Place
North Myrtle Beach, SC 29582
Phone: (917) 575-6235
Email: rickypiper@aol.com
Home page: canine-angels.net

Palmetto Animal Assisted Life Services (PAALS )
P.O. Box 25679
Columbia, SC 29224
Phone: (803) 788-7063
Email: info@paals.org
Home page: paals.org

Other resources

Assistance Dogs International:
Home page: assistancedogsinternational.org

U.S. Department of Justice Americans with Disabilities Act
Home page: ada.gov

Service dog rules and regulations

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July 2011

Service dog rules and regulations

Twenty-one years ago this month, the Americans with Disabilities Act was signed into law to reduce the number of barriers that people with disabilities encounter on a daily basis. Among its provisions, the law created a legal right for trained service animals to accompany the disabled into places of public accommodation where animals would not normally be welcome.

The recently amended law recognizes dogs, and only dogs, as assistance animals. They’re exempt from weight restrictions and breed bans sometimes imposed by condos, homeowners associations or municipalities, but the dog must perform tasks that mitigate the handler’s disability. Just providing emotional support or comfort isn’t enough.

In spite of recent clarification to ADA regulations, there’s still considerable public confusion related to service animals, says Jen Rogers of PAALS. That’s a big concern for reputable trainers.

“The public doesn’t have a way to know if any dog is really a service dog,” Rogers says. “There is no national certification for service dogs. Programs certify their own dogs. Assistance Dogs International (ADI) is the only way we’re standardizing this in any responsible way.”

ADI’s minimum standards for assistance dogs state that the animal must be able to perform at least three tasks to mitigate the handler’s disability and remain within 24 inches of him or her at all times. The dogs shouldn’t block aisles, bark for no reason or show any aggression whatsoever. Service dogs are never trained for protection.

Surprisingly, there’s no test that service dogs are required to pass, says Carolina Canines cofounder Rick Hairston, who also subscribes to ADI protocol and favors industry-wide standards. “A vehicle has to meet certain safety standards. With service dogs, you don’t.”

State and federal laws prohibit any individual from pretending to be disabled and falsely claiming that an animal is a service dog, says Hairston. “It’s a criminal offense punishable by fine and imprisonment.”