Artwork by Michael DiMilo
In a story that recently went viral, an ad agency employee was summoned to a meeting with his human resources supervisor, presumably to be terminated, and was told that he would be able to have a “support” person accompany him to the interview. The employee elected to bring a clown as his support. The buffoon sat with the employee during the firing, tying balloon animals and even miming tears. The tongue-in-cheek humor of this choice is somewhat tempered—for me at least—by the notion that an emotional support person would be invited to a meeting like this in the first place. The idea of bringing someone to a job termination astonished me. Who would want this? I would be mortified to have a friend or relative witness my firing.
This story reminded me of the growing number of incidents involving emotional support animals (ESAs) on airliners. Besides the run-of-the-mill support critters like dogs and cats, some passengers have been attempting to bring exotic creatures like monkeys, snakes, peacocks, lizards, and pigs onto flights as their emotional supports. Unfortunately, many of these pets have no service animal training and, as a result, on-board incidents such as urinating, defecating, and biting are becoming more and more common.
A properly trained service animal is thoroughly prepared to deal with almost any situation. Besides knowing their specialized service skills, they are able to demonstrate restaurant restraint, heel through buildings, and to potty on command. It takes almost two years to properly train one of these service animals. In short, these dogs have had much more extensive training than your everyday household pet.
Unfortunately—and obviously—the ESA licensing process has not been as stringent as it should be. Certifications granting permission to bring emotional support animals onto airplanes can be easily procured online for as little as fifty dollars. Reasons cited for needing ESAs include almost any type of psychological or emotional issue, including fear of flying or generalized anxiety. Unfortunately, pet owners who want to avoid having their fur babies locked in the jet cargo hold or to pay a pet transportation fee may, with the presentation of their certificate, bring the animal on board with them.
What surprises me is not the disregard these owners have for their fellow passengers, but their determination to have their pets travel with them. When did anxiety become such a problem that passengers felt a need to have emotional support animals in the next seat? When did the need for such extreme mollification of our stress become so widespread? What ever happened to emotional self-reliance and independence? Coping with stress, anxiety, and fear used to be skills most of us learned as children. We fended for ourselves on playgrounds, found ways to deal with our anxieties, and recognized and fought our fears. We didn’t always give in to them.
There are people that legitimately need service animals to function, but those that try to smuggle family pets aboard public spaces in order to save money or to simply get comfortable with their best friends are abusing the system, pure and simple. And those who masquerade their pets as legitimate service animals give the genuine canine service industry a bad name.
Stress and anxiety are woven into the fabric of our lives. It’s part of being human. It always has been. People are stressed out about terrorism or mass shooting today; fifty years ago we were worried about nuclear obliteration, mutually assured destruction; one hundred years ago it was influenza. There’s always something. What’s changed is not the level of anxiety or stress but our ability to deal with it. Instead of being a shared experience, worry used to be a personalized problem. We had problems, but we coped.
If I knew I was about to be fired, the last thing I would want to do would be to have my wife or someone else I know there to witness my embarrassment: because it would be embarrassing. I would want to preserve a little bit of my dignity; my pride would supersede my need to alleviate my anxiety or share my feelings. I like to solve my own problems and not burden others with my own worries; they have issues of their own.
My grandmother, when she was in her late seventies, lived in what had become a rough neighborhood in Milwaukee. One morning as she was waiting for her bus, a mugger attempted to grab her purse. She refused to let go, only giving in after the thief had dragged her half a block. About six months later, she—reluctantly—visited the doctor. He called in my mother to ask her when Grandma had broken her arm and who had set it. Apparently, after the mugging, she had gone home and set the arm herself. She said she didn’t want to worry anybody.
Grandma was tough, a lot tougher than me, and I admired (and still admire) her independence and her courage. She didn’t whine, she didn’t complain, and she didn’t have to ask for emotional support when she needed it. She had our love and our respect and our support. She believed in herself and, through her example, she made us believe in ourselves. You wouldn’t catch her trying to smuggle a support hamster onto a trans-continental flight.