Before I got one myself, I thought of a service dog as something like a wheelchair or an artificial arm. After I got one I re-evaluated my analogy and decided that they're more like exceedingly well-behaved children who think squirrels are really interesting. I also found out that, legally, they're the same as pacemakers or insulin pumps. From the perspective of a lawyer, Poodleface is an extension of my own body, which is how they justify that I'm allowed to take him everywhere. Not because he's a very special dog, but because he's me. Only furrier. And the wrong gender.
I found that policy a bit oddly worded until I read The Golden Compass and realized that I've technically got a daemon.
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