The Intersection of Canine and Disability Inclusivity

The core of canine inclusivity is written into The Roch Society’s founding ethos: to work toward a world where the bond between humans and dogs is not merely tolerated, but cherished and cultivated.

A significant part of this vision involves refining dog-friendliness in hospitality and travel (enter the Roch Standard) and calling out certification blind spots. More plainly, it consists of advocating for responsible dog ownership and actively embracing and celebrating the power of the human-dog bond in its myriad manifestations.

To provide a more textbook-fitted definition: canine inclusivity is a framework that drives pet-friendly policy shifts (in workplaces, retail, hotels, etc) by asking the right questions. For example, what is the difference between tolerance and inclusion?

Here, I suggest, is where canine inclusivity begins to dovetail with disability inclusivity discourse. Both canine and disability inclusivity grapple with removing systemic and attitudinal barriers. Just as disability inclusivity necessitates a cultural shift from mere compliance to true accessibility, canine inclusivity demands a reimagining of how we welcome dogs into shared, diverse spaces.

This, of course, directly overlaps with the vital presence of service animals in supporting disability autonomy but it also, I believe, introduces a very candid and multilayered conversation about collective care – a conversation that is now especially vital to maintain as 'inclusion' becomes an increasingly warped buzzword from a villainized acronym.

Tolerance vs. Inclusion

Since I've spent the last year and a half in graduate school immersed in and obsessing over Disability Studies, I sometimes forget that not everyone has the same comfortability with or a broadened exposure to the term 'disability' and its contexts.

Therefore, before moving forward in my discussion, I want to briefly share one of the more comprehensive definitions of 'disability' I've encountered. My personal favorite, if you will. It comes from the book Beasts of Burden: Animal and Disability Liberation by Sunaura Taylor, a remarkable animal rights and disability scholar.

Her definition reads:

“Disability can be an identity one embraces, a condition one struggles with, a space one finds liberation in, or a concept that can be leveraged to marginalize and oppress. It can also be all of these things at once” (16)

I so appreciate this multi-angled definition because it doesn't render disability a simple, formulaic category but a complex lived experience that entails simultaneity, paradox, and constant evolution.

This multidimensionality carries forth into exploring the ins and outs of disability inclusivity, which, unlike tolerance, requires "engagement, curiosity, or connection."

A tolerant company or business may pay lip service to disability inclusivity (or canine inclusivity), but when push comes to shove, their statements fail to translate into seamless, truly accessible experiences. This common disconnect is the impetus for Roch's mission to "drive dog-friendly clarity, transparency, and inclusiveness."

Similarly, on the disability side, there are some wonderful apps and non-profit initiatives (e.g., iAccess Life and WheelMap) that seek to close the feedback loop and make it easier for disabled patrons to research and rate a location's accessibility.

The common denominator between these inclusive innovations (for dogs and humans) is an open, change-oriented dialogue. After all, inclusion stands apart from tolerance because of its penchant for action, its proclivity to listen and try again, to readily make adjustments, and to keep learning and connecting. Where tolerance says "Well, we won’t kick you out the door," inclusion avers: “We welcome you! Tell us more!” 

Community Networks and Collective Care

Holding businesses accountable to the inclusive labels they advertise is one way that canine and disability inclusivity conversations intersect. Another point of intersection comes from the concept of collective care and its prioritization of inclusive community building.

Inherent to canine inclusivity is a willingness to ask (and act on) the question: What do I envision community to be/feel like?

That is a weighty and profound question that, for most of us, usually prompts meditation on an area of inclusion that we see as currently neglected or lacking. For a dog owner, this may be answered as clearly as: I want to live in a community that is dog-friendly, not dog-tolerant. I want to be able to have my dog included in all of my errands and events.

Answering it from my perspective, I would say that I want community to be a space where I (and others) can move differently – that is, a space I feel truly honors the fact that there are so many different ways of being and moving through the world.

Let me expand on this: after it became increasingly clear that my mobility was shifting or, rather, waning due to a genetic connective tissue disorder, I started to become hyperaware of each building’s accessibility (or lack thereof). How far would I have to walk? Are there places to sit? Is the wheelchair ramp functional? What about the elevators?

Like many others in the chronic illness and disability community, I find it disheartening/exhausting to feel perpetually out of sync with the pace of society and out of place navigating its able-bodied topography.

Now, how does this perspective converge with canine inclusivity? Well, as someone passionate about both disability justice and pet-friendly policy, I can't help but see a shared impulse not just in tracking down stand-out venues with gold-star accessibility but in confronting and disrupting the stubborn frameworks that approach inclusion as a threat rather than as an opportunity.

By 'opportunity,' I'm referring less to its good-for-business financial connotation and more to its transformative capacity for cementing greater care networks. Along these lines, the concept of collective care comes to mind.

Per the UAF, "collective care is a strategy that actively resists the ways we have been socialized toward alienation, isolation, individualism, competition, and scarcity."

Leah Lakshmi Piepzna-Samarasinha (she/they) helpfully expounds upon this framework in her top-tier Disability Justice text Care Work:

Collective care means shifting our organizations to be ones where people feel fine if they get sick, cry, have needs, start late because the bus broke down, move slower...Where we actually care for each other and don't leave each other behind (108)

With its holistic outlook, collective care recognizes that well-being is an interdependent pursuit; it understands that care is not a finite resource, nor is it a transaction. It promotes inclusivity as a cycle of support that, when nurtured, extends outward in ways that benefit everyone – humans and nonhumans alike.

Final Thoughts

At the end of the day, when we push for more dog-friendly policies, we should, too, be asking: Who else is being excluded from this space? What assumptions about ability, movement, and belonging are shaping policies? And how can we move from mere accommodation to genuine inclusion?

I firmly believe that a world that welcomes dogs is a world that is more welcoming, period. It encourages us to be more adaptable, more compassionate, and more connected to one another. By championing dog-friendly spaces, I think canine inclusivity can, in tandem, give disability justice leaders a much-needed seat at the table in how we design and rethink public environments.

Of course, the ultimate vision is global in scale for both canine and disability inclusivity, but true transformation always starts at the local community level. Smaller-scale initiatives like a newfound café embracing dog-friendly policies or a neighborhood organizing accessible walking routes set the foundation for broader cultural shifts in line with collective care principles.

On that note, if you're part of an accessibility initiative of collective care (for dogs and their humans), please get in touch with Roch's small but mighty team. We would love to share your story of inclusivity.