A professional portrait of me, my girlfriend, and my service dog, Lovey. We’re seated on a light wood floor with a soft green backdrop behind us. I’m in a white shirt and jeans; she’s in a white lace dress. Lovey, in her blue Canine Companions vest, lies calmly between us. The photo captures not just a moment, but our bond—grounded in love, advocacy, and pride during Disability Pride Month.
We got dressed up to get turned away.
My girlfriend and I had planned the whole day around one simple thing: getting photos taken with my service dog, Canine Companions® Lovey. It’s a tradition for us—something joyful. This year felt extra special: our first in-person visit since Lovey entered the picture.
We booked at Picture People. My girlfriend grew up going there—nostalgic, right? But when we showed up, after a 45-minute Uber, we were told we couldn’t do our shoot.
Why? Because Lovey is a dog.
Apparently, their policy lumps service animals in with pets, and we were told those appointments must be booked last in the day. That slot was already taken. Never mind that no such policy was listed when we booked. Never mind the travel, the planning, the outfits. Never mind the federal law.
I got on the phone with the manager. Calm, direct—but angry. Because here’s the thing:
Why is it always on us—disabled people—to do the emotional labor?
Why do we have to fight just to participate in the most basic of joys?
My girlfriend and I were left standing there, stunned. She’d talked up this place for years—and this was my introduction to it.
Enter: JCPenney. Same mall. Same request. And they got it.
They adjusted their policy. They saw Lovey as a working dog. We got the photos. No fight, no fuss. Just compassion. It was a total 180—and a reminder that inclusion is a choice.
But the day didn’t start there. It started with an Uber denial. I usually pay the extra “Uber Pet” fee just to avoid confrontation—even though legally, service animals ride for free. That day, I didn’t. And sure enough, we got denied. Again.
So yes, I was angry. Because I’ve been doing this advocacy work for over a decade. I’ve published. I’ve documented. I’ve spoken up. And yet here we are: 2025. Still explaining the difference between a pet and a service dog. Still negotiating access like it’s a favor.
And Lovey? She stayed calm. Steady. Grounding me while I navigated frustration and disappointment. A better example of grace than most corporate policy manuals.
Disability Pride Month should be more than hashtags and lip service. So I’m asking:
Have you witnessed discrimination like this?
What policies or companies have gotten it right?
Where can we call others in—or out?
Inclusion isn’t theory. It’s practice.
It’s training. Transparency. Leadership that includes us at the table.
We’re not asking for special treatment. We’re asking to be treated like people.
Let’s talk about that.