Everyone sat down, so I did, too. There was nothing much to smell in the room. I could tell the open bin by his desk had some potatoes in it, though.
“So,” the man began, “I looked into it. Yes, there are seizure dogs. Most of them are trained to do what you say Bella does naturally, which is to signal. Some people claim they’ve saved lives, though naturally there are naysayers. And by law you have to be allowed to have a seizure dog if a doctor prescribes it. Doesn’t matter if you’re in a no-pet building, they have to make an exception. I talked to our house counsel and he says the Fair Housing Act, the FHA, is very clear on the matter.”
“Thank God,” Lucas murmured.
The man held up one of his stinky hands. “Well, wait a minute, it’s not that simple. There’s a whole procedure to go through. Bella would have to be certified. Right now, she’s just a pet.”
“But I told you, she’s barked both times recently when my Mom has been going into a seizure. If we understood what was going on, we could have prepared for it!”
I felt my person’s agitation and looked at him anxiously. What was wrong?
“I do understand that, son,” the man replied. “But having the innate ability is a far cry from obtaining a legal certification.”
“How long will that take?” Lucas asked.
“I don’t really know, but it looks like an involved process.” The man shrugged. “We don’t do that here, I can tell you that much.”
“We only have three days left before they start proceedings,” Lucas moaned. I licked his hand.
“Doc, couldn’t you give him some kind of letter about this?” Ty asked.
“I can’t do that. Even if a letter would do any good, which I highly doubt—as I said, there’s a clear process—I can’t state she’s a trained seizure-alert animal, because she’s not trained, she’s just a dog with innate ability.”
Ty stood up. If anything, he seemed more agitated than Lucas. “Look, this is a really special dog. She comes on the ward and you can just see people’s stress going away. In twelve step, the new ones are thrilled to have her there; she gives them confidence. She sits right up front and nearly everyone who wants to speak pets her first. And I know she helps Terri; she told me Bella’s more effective than the antidepressants she’s taking. Everyone loves her. She’s doing good here, doc. That’s got to count for something.”
The man was quiet for a moment. “So you do know having a dog in the VA is against the rules, right?” he finally asked.
“I know I will do what it takes to help the men and women I care about. Men and women who served this country. People who are having a tough time for a lot of reasons. And if this dog can make a difference I am damn well going to see to it she gets to come here!” Ty responded hotly.
The man held up a hand. “No, don’t misunderstand me. I just was making sure you knew that if Dr. Gann, or a couple of doctors I could name, find out you’ve been smuggling a pet into the hospital, they’ll shut you down. I personally don’t have a dog in the hunt, no pun intended.”
“Bella is more than just a pet,” Ty stated evenly. He seemed less angry. “That’s what I am telling you.”
I liked hearing Ty say my name, and I wagged.
“How is your mother?” the man asked Lucas.
“She’s … in some ways better, some ways worse. She hasn’t been too depressed lately, except these seizures are a real concern. We thought they were over.”
“And your dog helps her with depression?” the man asked.
“Yes. Absolutely.”
“Tell me about that.”
“Well, she stays with Bella all day. When I come home, she is so much better than how it used to be, before the dog, I mean. It has been a long time since she was so down she hadn’t gotten out of her pajamas or had anything to eat when I got back. She takes Bella for walks and gets a lot of energy from that. And Bella seems to know when she’s starting to go to a dark place and will put her head in Mom’s lap.”
Lucas had said my name, so I wagged again.
“I’m glad to hear she’s doing better.”
“She is going to meetings on a much more frequent basis.” Lucas looked to Ty.
“I sort of can’t confirm that, Lucas,” Ty said apologetically.
“Oh right. Sorry.”
“Well, here’s the thing,” the man said, clearing his throat. “I cannot give you anything regarding her being a seizure dog. But as I understand the FHA, all that’s required for her to be considered an emotional support animal is a letter from a doctor currently treating Terri. So I’ll do that right now.”
“Will that … will the building allow us to stay if we have that letter?” Lucas asked hopefully.
“I’m not an attorney, but what I read online seems to clearly imply they have to.”
“Thank you so much, Dr. Sterling. You have no idea how much this means to me and my mother.”
The man was using a pencil to scratch a piece of paper. “This doesn’t give you a get-out-of-jail-free card for the VA.” He looked sharply at Ty. “Having her here is still against the rules. A seizure dog, that might be a different story, but emotional support animals are barred.”
“Understood, doctor,” Ty said.
“I’m not going to rat you out, I’m just warning you what might happen if you’re discovered.”
“Oh, I think we can keep Bella a secret,” Ty observed dryly. “We’ve got good people on it.”
The man handed over a piece of paper and Lucas put it in his pocket. He seemed really, really happy, but he did not celebrate with any treats.
*
After that, things changed at home. No longer did Lucas step outside for a moment before running with me to the sidewalk. Now we left together, and Lucas did not mind if I sniffed and dawdled around our front door.
At first, I was confused. A good dog, I had decided, learned from doing things over and over. That’s how I knew No Barks meant to remain silent no matter what the provocation, and Tiny Piece of Cheese meant Lucas loved me and had a very special treat in his fingers. When he told me I was a good dog it was as good as any treat, even chicken, except of course it was always better if there was a treat as well.
But humans can change without warning, and I just accepted this as part of being with my person. So if our pattern of leaving the house was different, I couldn’t begin to guess why.
When Mom took me, we did not walk as far, but sometimes we met people. “She’s my therapy dog,” Mom would say to them. Whatever that meant, I heard the word “dog” and I could feel the approval and affection of the people who would pet me, and knew they understood I was a good dog.