Parenthood and disability

Was my choice to not have kids my own or predetermined by my disability?

This post will begin with a reference to my dogs - again - because most interactions about my disability begin with a greeting to my dogs. One of the many reasons that I got Harry 10 years ago was that he would distract passersby from asking why I was in a wheelchair.

A failed venture that I learned to ignore, the addition of a second dog - Josie in February of this year - meant that the comments I receive have become more inquisitive, more intrusive.

I know it’s a sight when someone has two dogs, but it’s a spectacle when someone in a wheelchair is walking two dogs. With no exaggeration, I can see drivers slow down to take it in and I can overhear people saying, “isn’t she great”, but one of the most common things I am asked is “are they your best friends?”

A few years ago, I tweeted a question. I asked if other dog owners were asked about the friendship status between them and their dogs, or if it was a question I was bestowed with simply because I was in a wheelchair. Most of the replies from disabled said that no, they’d never been asked that.

Last week when I was walking the dogs, a woman stopped me to ask if it was me on the ads on the side of the bus. I knew which ad she was talking about, but it isn’t me; just another blonde woman in a wheelchair. Then she focused on the dogs. Asking their breeds and ages, she returned her attention to me and said, “It must be very good for you to have dogs". I stumbled over my reply, “No different than anybody else", and then grumbled over the implication of that statement the rest of my walk home.