Conquering the world one wheel and paw at a time
By Liza Worsford
Everyday, I am faced with barriers, whether it be no access for my wheelchair to get into a public place or building, or simply not allowing my service dog and I to enter public transit.
One day, while I was waiting for the bus in downtown London, my power chair was about to lose all of its charge. When the bus pulled up and the driver opened the door, I asked him to lower the ramp so I could get on. He said he would not allow me on with my dog.
I asked, “Why?”
He responded, “It is not a seeing eye dog.”
I was shocked. I replied, “It does not matter what the dog’s job is.”
When I started pulling the photo ID out of my wallet to show where my dog was trained, the driver said with an angry tone, “Oh just get on, I have no time for this.”
I got on the bus. But all the way to my drop off point, the driver argued with me, telling me he was in the right, that I was not allowed on his bus. I barely made it home and through the door with only two bars of power left on the screen indicator of my chair. I called the bus company and complained. The next day, I received a call back. The person on the other end of the phone apologised for the driver’s behaviour. He was suspended and then was to be called in for more training.
Another time I was taking a local door-to-door wheelchair bus company. I had just visited my husband in the hospital and was waiting for my bus to go home. The bus pulled up and yet again, the driver refused to take me home with my service dog. I was told to leave him at the hospital and then I would be taken home. I was shocked and filled with anger. Eventually, after we argued for ten minutes and I called the bus company and complained, the driver allowed me on with my dog but when he pulled up to my house, he refused to unbuckle me.
I said, “Excuse me. My dog does not leave my side. He is trained to stay with me. He does not move, unless I am moving.”
After a few minutes of arguing with him, the driver unbuckled me and let me off the bus. I got off the lift, picked up my cell phone, and complained again. One common question I get asked is, “How can you do that? You’re in a wheelchair?”
My answer is always, “Watch me. You haven’t seen nothing yet!”
My dog helps me navigate my way through society safely and confidently, so please do not tell me he is not allowed to be by my side, my partner in crime. Without my “right hand man” doing the job he is trained to do—opening doors by pressing the round button, picking items off the floor that I have dropped, taking the laundry out of the dryer for me—I would be lost.
Hi, my name is Liza Worsfold. I live in London, Ontario. I am happily married now for 20 years to my wonderful husband Steve. I am also in the process of getting my first children’s book published.