I Know You're Really Attached To Your Dog, But None Of The Rest Of Us Want To Fly With Her
http://www.forbes.com/sites/danielre...o#c12427565f61
Dan Reed , CONTRIBUTOR
I write about airlines, the travel biz, and related industries
Opinions expressed by Forbes Contributors are their own.
I love my dog, Bella! And I’m sure you would, too…
…though probably not if you met her – all 95 pounds of her – aboard a commercial airliner.
But that very well could be the place that you do meet Bella. And given my basic cheapness, it almost certainly would be in coach. That is guaranteed to make the ridiculously cramped row that you would share with me and Bella the source of maybe your best (or worst, depending on your perspective) travel nightmare story ever.
You see, I’m a big guy: 6’3” and too many pounds. Sitting next to a guy my size in coach these days can’t be any fun. And having Bella, a gorgeous white Labrador from a line of champion field trial dogs, squeeze in there with us promises to be brutal. She is huge, even by Labrador standards. Our vet says she’s the biggest female Lab he’s ever treated.
But, I promise, you’ll like her. You really will. She’s affectionate and funny. She just comes in a large, and VERY active package. When she stands on her hind legs her snout rises to the level of my chin, and she puts her front paws on my shoulders! All that body and her fondness for standing/sitting/laying very close to people can make sitting comfortably around her a bit of a challenge. Not to mention that she drools. A lot.
Now, if the prospect of flying with Bella – or any other dog – has you running back to the ticket counter to change flights, I understand. But if I decide, as thousands of others already have decided, to take abusive advantage of a law that was meant to accommodate people who honestly need personal assistance animals to function in this world, you could be my next seat-mate/victim.
Lucky for you, I’m not a jerk (at least not most of the time). So I won’t be getting Bella certified as my Emotional Support Animal. But I could, quite easily.
You see, for around $250, plus an express shipping fee, I could get Bella certified as an Emotional Support Animal by Saturday. Her beautiful certificate (suitable for framing) would come with a cool kit that includes a leash, a hard plastic name tag she can wear, and a cute doggie vest that would identify her special purpose (keeping me from freaking out in mid-air, or melting into a pool of tears). That way she’d look all official, and everything, as we board our next flight together.
As part of that kit I’d also get a letter stating that my fragile emotional and/or mental state requires that Bella be allowed to fly with me (for free) and that she be allowed to stay in a hotel with me (again, for free) despite any rules prohibiting pets in rooms. As an extra added bonus that letter would allow her to live with me even if decide to move into a building, apartment, condo complex or other facility that has a strict no pets policy.
And to get all that all I would have to do would be to answer a few simple questions online. Oh, sure, I’d have to lie. I’d have to say that my emotional state is so chaotic that I simply can’t go anywhere without my dear Bella. I might even have to make up a story about some tragedy in my life in recent years that made me so emotionally unstable that I can’t cope with life unless Bella is at my side.
But there’s nothing to worry about. It’s not like anybody’s going to read my answers and evaluate whether I actually NEED an Emotional Support Animal when I travel. Matter of fact, it’s very doubtful that anybody will take any steps to check out whether my answers and my story are true.
I won’t even have to visit a shrink, a psychologist, a certified counselor, or even my own personal physician to prove anything. If I tell them online that I’m emotionally unstable, they’ll just take my word for it. And it won’t go on any official records. So my claim of emotional instability can never be used against me when it comes time to renew my driver’s license, when I apply for a government security clearance, or when I go in for my annual performance review. Those folks will never know that I once feigned instability so I could travel with my dog.
So, as a result, by Saturday I could have Bella certified as an ESA. No training (for her, or me) necessary. And that would allow me to impose my loveable but huge, drooling dog on you and the anywhere from 100 to 400 others aboard your flight.
Now, from a strict legal perspective Bella’s “Certificate,” the letter I would carry around explaining that I need her when I travel, and all the accouterments that would come in her super cool ESA kit, are meaningless. They’re bogus; as legit as the drivers license a 15-year-old uses when he tries to buy beer at the convenience store. But 99 times out of 100, it’ll work.
According to an obscure – and very poorly drafted – federal law a person must have a very specific diagnosis from a mental health expert to earn the right to fly commercially with Emotional Support Animal. But the law doesn’t define who such an “expert” is, what medical procedures must be followed, or what mental health protocols must be exercised for such a diagnosis to be made. Nor does the law set out any standards for what an ESA actually does to help such a person, how such an animal is to be trained, or even that the animal needs to be trained at all.
Heck, the law doesn’t even define what KIND of animal qualifies to serve as an ESA. Dogs are common. But so are cats (which is weird because we all know that cats couldn’t care less about people’s “feelings”). Also being used these days as ESAs are exotic birds, pot-bellied pigs, ducks, small monkeys, and several kinds of mild-mannered exotic animals (note: airlines likely will balk at accepting your pet tiger as an ESA). There’s even been at least one widely reported case of a passenger boarding with a miniature horse serving as their ESA. Thankfully, to their credit, airlines do draw the line at snakes, rodents, spiders and certain other unsavory little varmints.
So why do airlines allow this blatant and widespread abuse of an arguably well-intentioned but inarguably poorly-written and seldom-enforced law?
http://www.forbes.com/sites/danielre...o#c12427565f61
Dan Reed , CONTRIBUTOR
I write about airlines, the travel biz, and related industries
Opinions expressed by Forbes Contributors are their own.
I love my dog, Bella! And I’m sure you would, too…
…though probably not if you met her – all 95 pounds of her – aboard a commercial airliner.
But that very well could be the place that you do meet Bella. And given my basic cheapness, it almost certainly would be in coach. That is guaranteed to make the ridiculously cramped row that you would share with me and Bella the source of maybe your best (or worst, depending on your perspective) travel nightmare story ever.
You see, I’m a big guy: 6’3” and too many pounds. Sitting next to a guy my size in coach these days can’t be any fun. And having Bella, a gorgeous white Labrador from a line of champion field trial dogs, squeeze in there with us promises to be brutal. She is huge, even by Labrador standards. Our vet says she’s the biggest female Lab he’s ever treated.
But, I promise, you’ll like her. You really will. She’s affectionate and funny. She just comes in a large, and VERY active package. When she stands on her hind legs her snout rises to the level of my chin, and she puts her front paws on my shoulders! All that body and her fondness for standing/sitting/laying very close to people can make sitting comfortably around her a bit of a challenge. Not to mention that she drools. A lot.
Now, if the prospect of flying with Bella – or any other dog – has you running back to the ticket counter to change flights, I understand. But if I decide, as thousands of others already have decided, to take abusive advantage of a law that was meant to accommodate people who honestly need personal assistance animals to function in this world, you could be my next seat-mate/victim.
Lucky for you, I’m not a jerk (at least not most of the time). So I won’t be getting Bella certified as my Emotional Support Animal. But I could, quite easily.
You see, for around $250, plus an express shipping fee, I could get Bella certified as an Emotional Support Animal by Saturday. Her beautiful certificate (suitable for framing) would come with a cool kit that includes a leash, a hard plastic name tag she can wear, and a cute doggie vest that would identify her special purpose (keeping me from freaking out in mid-air, or melting into a pool of tears). That way she’d look all official, and everything, as we board our next flight together.
As part of that kit I’d also get a letter stating that my fragile emotional and/or mental state requires that Bella be allowed to fly with me (for free) and that she be allowed to stay in a hotel with me (again, for free) despite any rules prohibiting pets in rooms. As an extra added bonus that letter would allow her to live with me even if decide to move into a building, apartment, condo complex or other facility that has a strict no pets policy.
And to get all that all I would have to do would be to answer a few simple questions online. Oh, sure, I’d have to lie. I’d have to say that my emotional state is so chaotic that I simply can’t go anywhere without my dear Bella. I might even have to make up a story about some tragedy in my life in recent years that made me so emotionally unstable that I can’t cope with life unless Bella is at my side.
But there’s nothing to worry about. It’s not like anybody’s going to read my answers and evaluate whether I actually NEED an Emotional Support Animal when I travel. Matter of fact, it’s very doubtful that anybody will take any steps to check out whether my answers and my story are true.
I won’t even have to visit a shrink, a psychologist, a certified counselor, or even my own personal physician to prove anything. If I tell them online that I’m emotionally unstable, they’ll just take my word for it. And it won’t go on any official records. So my claim of emotional instability can never be used against me when it comes time to renew my driver’s license, when I apply for a government security clearance, or when I go in for my annual performance review. Those folks will never know that I once feigned instability so I could travel with my dog.
So, as a result, by Saturday I could have Bella certified as an ESA. No training (for her, or me) necessary. And that would allow me to impose my loveable but huge, drooling dog on you and the anywhere from 100 to 400 others aboard your flight.
Now, from a strict legal perspective Bella’s “Certificate,” the letter I would carry around explaining that I need her when I travel, and all the accouterments that would come in her super cool ESA kit, are meaningless. They’re bogus; as legit as the drivers license a 15-year-old uses when he tries to buy beer at the convenience store. But 99 times out of 100, it’ll work.
According to an obscure – and very poorly drafted – federal law a person must have a very specific diagnosis from a mental health expert to earn the right to fly commercially with Emotional Support Animal. But the law doesn’t define who such an “expert” is, what medical procedures must be followed, or what mental health protocols must be exercised for such a diagnosis to be made. Nor does the law set out any standards for what an ESA actually does to help such a person, how such an animal is to be trained, or even that the animal needs to be trained at all.
Heck, the law doesn’t even define what KIND of animal qualifies to serve as an ESA. Dogs are common. But so are cats (which is weird because we all know that cats couldn’t care less about people’s “feelings”). Also being used these days as ESAs are exotic birds, pot-bellied pigs, ducks, small monkeys, and several kinds of mild-mannered exotic animals (note: airlines likely will balk at accepting your pet tiger as an ESA). There’s even been at least one widely reported case of a passenger boarding with a miniature horse serving as their ESA. Thankfully, to their credit, airlines do draw the line at snakes, rodents, spiders and certain other unsavory little varmints.
So why do airlines allow this blatant and widespread abuse of an arguably well-intentioned but inarguably poorly-written and seldom-enforced law?
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