B Y K E L LY K E N O Y E R
DIFFICULTIES
WITH
DISABILITIES
People with psychological
disabilities feel discriminated
against by Eugene dog ban
ROBERT WILSON AND
HIS CHIHUAHUA,
CHICA
PHOTO: TODD COOPER
obert Wilson has been homeless off and on for
25 years, with none but a small dog to keep him
company and keep away the demons of PTSD
and anxiety that haunt him.
A veteran who served in the Army in the ’80s,
Wilson, 54, is a short man with bright, worried eyes and
a friendly, if nervous, demeanor. “I couldn’t be outside or
talk to strangers without her,” he says of his Chihuahua,
Chica. The dog is dressed as a cowboy, shivering slightly
inside his coat.
Wilson busks for a meager living in downtown Eugene
with Chica, but since the dog ban was implemented April
10, he’s had police officers question him and tell him he
needs to leave the area. “I haven’t had one complaint in 20
years, and now they’re saying I can’t be here downtown
making a living.”
Employees at Voodoo Doughnut and Sizzle Pie both tell
EW that they adore Chica, and that the dog brings in more
business.
Skylar Gibson at Sizzle Pie says there are “more prob-
lems than dogs” in downtown Eugene. Voodoo employees
agreed, adding that Chica drew more customers into the
store, and that drug addicts are more of an issue than the
little dolled-up Chihuahua.
“Chica’s like a little local celebrity. She’s really well
loved,” Wilson says as a few women come up to scratch
her ears. Wilson became housed in the winter via a pro-
gram called Vet LIFT at St. Vincent DePaul’s that helps
homeless veterans get off the street, but he’s still very low
income.
“The cops said I can come through here to do busi-
ness, but I can’t stay here all day,” he says. “They told me
I had to pretty much go, and I said I wanted a ticket or for
them to arrest me so I could see my day in court, but they
wouldn’t do that either.”
He says, “The officer was actually polite about it, I
could tell he didn’t exactly enjoy doing his job.”
Wilson adds that, with the dog ban, he feels discrimi-
nated against “based on someone else’s behavior.”
The dog ban in the downtown area is a controversial
attempt to clean up downtown, but it may also create prob-
lems with the American Disabilities Act when it is enforced
in cases where the status of the dog is unclear.
Wilson says he can’t leave the house without Chica due
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May 18, 2017 • eugeneweekly.com
to his severe anxiety. Having the dog with him grounds
him. “She senses when I’m having panic attacks and licks
my hands and face to focus my attention away from what-
ever it is that’s bothering me.”
The dog ban ordinance does say the ban does not apply
to “a dog assisting an individual with a disability,” mean-
ing that the ordinance is in compliance with ADA regula-
tions. It does not, however, clearly outline what qualifies as
a disability or as a service dog, leaving a difficult line for
the police to walk when it comes to enforcement.
Washington-based attorney Adam Karp, whose spe-
cialty is in animals and pets, says the line between emo-
tional support dogs and service animals is “admittedly a
gray area.” PTSD is covered under the ADA, he says, and
animals can be trained by their owners to perform those
functions.
The ADA states that a service dog must be permitted to
accompany its owner wherever they go, and staff can only
ask two questions regarding the animal: Is it a service ani-
mal, and what task has the animal been trained to perform?
Animals don’t need to be officially certified as service
animals to qualify, but they must be under control and
housebroken. If the animal meets these criteria, then it has
the right to be anywhere a member of the public would be
permitted.
Eugene police spokesperson Melinda McLaughlin says
the ordinance uses the ADA definition of a service animal,
and she clarifies that officers are only meant to ask those
two permitted questions.
When asked if PTSD qualifies as an exemption for dis-
ability with the dog ban downtown, McLaughlin wrote in
an email, “Companion animals and therapy dogs do not
qualify as service animals.”
Not every dog with an owner with disabilities falls un-
der the ADA designation, and Karp says that Chica may
not qualify. “There have been cases where dogs are trained
to make physical contact and maintain physical proximity
to make sure the person is re-centered,” Karp says. “You
have to provide training that sets the animal apart from an
ordinary pet,” he says, and Chica likely doesn’t fit the bill.
Other dogs may be a different story. Jeremy Roberts has
had his German shepherd for about six months, and he con-
siders it to be a disability service dog.
Like Wilson, Roberts has disabilities that are not imme-
diately visible. “I’ve been diagnosed with PTSD and As-
perger’s,” he says, adding that he had three significant brain
injuries during his childhood.
Roberts has a light Southern accent and a thick beard. The
police stopped him and his dog downtown on the afternoon
of May 2, which he says triggered his PTSD. “I keep telling
them I’m scared, that I’m getting sick, and asking if I’m being
detained.” Roberts says he was asked to prove the dog was a
service animal, but didn’t know how to do so in the throes of
his PTSD.
Roberts admits that he yelled at the police and became
aggressive during this episode. He has trained his dog him-
self, and says, “When I react to things he pays attention and
watches, and he’ll get up in my lap and ground me if I’m not
doing good.”
The German shepherd even guided him home when he
had a dissociative episode, he says.
Attorney Karp says these actions likely qualify the dog as
a service animal under the ADA, though he adds that “an ani-
mal in training is not a service animal.”
The ordinance itself lists service dogs as an exception to
the rule, so long as they are licensed with the city. Dog licens-
ing costs $12-$42 a year depending on the dog’s age and spay/
neuter status — an amount that might be prohibitive for those
living on the street with disabilities.
McLaughlin writes in an email, “The city works in part-
nership with a pro bono organization who will provide a free
dog license if the owner is unable to pay the required fee.”
Other disabled citizens with service dogs say they have
had few issues with the ban, perhaps because their disabilities
are more obvious to the average viewer.
Megan Smith says she often busks in Kesey Square and by
the bus station with her seeing-eye dog. She plays a ukulele
to earn money and promote her band, Charming Tempests.
“I think you run into problems if you don’t have a visible
disability,” she says, adding that she hasn’t had any police talk
to her about the ban, likely because her dog wears a clearly
labeled harness.
Under the current law, Robert Wilson likely can’t legally
spend time downtown with his small dog buttoned up inside
his shirt. Wilson says, however, that the law isn’t just. “I
served my country. I earned the right to be down here with my
service dog,” he says. “Anyone who says America is a free
country hasn’t been homeless.”