Clara didn’t stop there. “I’ve had bad experiences with dogs before, and now I have to put up with this? Do you know I’ve been chased once by a bulldog!” she hissed, her voice rising. “It’s not fair to the rest of us who have to sit next to your pet.” Her words, harsh and biting, cut through the air.
A man sitting across the aisle from Clara, visibly annoyed, leaned toward her. “Lady, it’s a service dog. Didn’t you hear him? You don’t have to like it, but can’t you just stop complaining about it?” His voice was low but firm.