About two years ago, we welcomed our first assistance animal into our overnight shelter. I can’t remember the animal’s name, only that it was a cat, and that the sky didn’t fall when he and his owner walked through our doors and stayed a while.

The shelter I lead was in the process of converting to low-barrier status, meaning we admit anyone without regard to sobriety, treatment for mental illness or history of criminal convictions. It seemed to me that admitting animal guests was a necessary step given our service population.

Homeless shelters, especially low-barrier shelters, serve people with disabilities. Low-barrier shelters in particular serve people who are, more likely than not, living with a disabling condition.

While disability discrimination law wasn’t written to serve the unhoused specifically, it nonetheless offers protections to people who are guests at homeless shelters.

One of the most important statues for the shelters who receive federal funding (through a grant with Maine Housing) is contained in the Rehabilitation Act 1973. This act requires any federally funded service to make accommodations in their policies, and procedures to ensure that people with disabilities can enjoy the full benefits of that program. This includes federally funded shelters.

For the unhoused, an assistance animal is vital to their ability to access shelter. The emotional support and stability provided by an animal is far more than mere companionship. This is why so many refuse to come inside if they are asked to surrender their animal – even temporarily.

Blanket shelter policies that do not consider admitting animals on a case-by-case basis amount to disability discrimination. And unlike other statutes, under the 1973 act, there is no need to consider whether a shelter meets the very unclear definition of a “dwelling”. If the agency receives federal funding, the requirement applies.

Early on, accepting animals seemed revolutionary. We were the only shelter in the state of Maine to take that step and, in all honestly, all my senior leaders had sworn that a single cat would signal the arrival of the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse.

Today, our shelter team are evangelical in their testimony of the benefits of animal guests. Animals must meet the same behavior standards as humans (no violence or overt threats), and we work hard to ensure all our animals gain access to a primary health care provider (a vet) and get up to date on all vaccinations, flea and tick treatments, or other healthcare needs.

In return, the animals bring happiness and contentment not only to their owner, but to everyone else in the shelter – guests, volunteers and staff alike.

Allowing animals into shelters should be standard practice. And yet there are very few providers in Maine who do it and those who don’t cite a litany of reasons why doing so is madness. This includes everything from triggering pet allergies for other guests to the risk to property or of litigation should an animal exhibit poor or aggressive behavior.

While these are legitimate concerns, the law still requires a case-by-case analysis. We can only bear witness to the fact that none of these arguments pass muster to warrant a blanket denial of all animals. The benefits of animals in shelter far outweigh the risks.

Last night we had seven animal guests at the shelter: five dogs, two cats and a goldfish. We also had 80 people. War, famine, conquest and death were kept at bay.

Revolutions tend to start with one person or organization with an extreme view on how to change the world. We should be long past the idea that ending housing discrimination is a radical idea. Sadly, when it comes to the homeless, we are not.

Those of us who provide shelter, including the City of Portland, can and must do better.

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