Not Your Place, Not Your Business: The Harm of Questioning Service Dog Teams

Imagine this: someone is sitting quietly in a store, minding their own business. Their loyal service dog is tucked gently under their legs, doing exactly what he’s trained to do—calm, focused, unseen. They’re not causing a scene. Not bothering anyone. Just waiting.

That was the case for Sherry, one of our service dog handlers. Her husband had stepped away to run a quick errand, and she was simply sitting in a chair with her service dog at her feet when a woman entered the store.

“Oh, what’s this dog doing here?” the woman said sharply, her voice full of judgment.

Sherry tried to stay calm. Her dog remained completely unobtrusive, lying still and attentive. But the woman didn’t stop there. She continued to antagonize the team, accusing Sherry of faking her condition, insisting this wasn’t a “real service dog,” and that they had no right to be there.

Sherry, who lives with PTSD and social anxiety, began to feel her anxiety rise. Her service dog, recognizing the signs, calmly got up and placed himself on her—a trained medical task called deep pressure therapy that helps to ground and soothe her.

“See? That’s not a service dog,” the woman said again. “You need to get out of here.”

A store clerk tried to intervene and defend Sherry, but the woman kept going—staring, muttering, and commenting relentlessly.

This wasn’t just uncomfortable—it was harassment. And it turned what should have been a peaceful, ordinary moment into a deeply distressing one.

Unfortunately, it’s not an isolated incident.

Another service dog team—Susan and her seizure alert dog—were recently enjoying a quiet meal at a restaurant. Her dog was calmly lying under the table, out of sight. But a woman at a nearby table began to stare, then complain to the waitress. She eventually called the manager over, making a scene in front of everyone.

Susan, who suffers from epileptic seizures, does not experience social anxiety, and thankfully wasn’t intimidated. But the incident was still unsettling.

Most people are kind to service dog teams. They smile, ask friendly questions, and show curiosity in a respectful way. But it only takes one person to ruin someone’s entire day with a few cruel or misinformed words.

And here’s the truth: nobody gets to be the Service Dog Police.

No matter how much someone thinks they know about service dogs, it is not their place to question another person’s medical needs. These dogs come in all breeds, sizes, and temperaments. Some perform visible tasks like retrieving or opening doors. Others—like Sherry’s dog—perform crucial, invisible tasks like interrupting anxiety attacks or providing grounding pressure during flashbacks.

A dog placing itself on its handler is not misbehavior—it’s medical intervention.

Service dog teams have already been through evaluations, training, and often years of personal and emotional challenges. They’re not looking for attention. They’re looking for dignity, autonomy, and the freedom to live their lives.

So what should someone do when they see a service dog team?

Nothing.

Let them be. Smile if you want. But most importantly, do not engage unless invited. Service dog teams are not a public spectacle or an open invitation for opinion.

They are doing the hard, quiet work of navigating life with disabilities. Your curiosity, your judgment, or your confrontation can undo all of that in seconds.

To Sherry, to Susan, and to every handler who has endured this kind of treatment—your strength is undeniable. Your dogs are doing incredible work. And we’ll keep telling your stories until the world finally understands what respect really looks like.

To everyone else: please, ignore service dog teams. It’s the kindest, most powerful thing you can do.

Medical Mutts Service Dogs trains rescue dogs to assist people with medical conditions, giving both a second chance at life. Let’s honor that mission by giving these incredible teams the dignity and peace they deserve.

ADA service dog laws and hotline