My Emotional Support Animal

​My cat/son Chester’s been an integral part of my life for the past eight years.  I post about him often he’s pretty much CoSP’s mascot.  People don’t think of me without thinking of him.  Whenever I sign birthday/graduation/event cards, I sign them “Craig and Chester.”  So to move to a home without him was, well, unfathomable, to put it mildly.
 
And I was disappointed to see so many places during my search that didn’t allow pets.  I saw a place that checked every box on my list (close to Metro, two bedrooms, larger than my DC apartment) but when I heard pet-free, I dismissed it.  But Don, the listing agent, mentioned the words “service animal” or “ESA” (Emotional Support Animals).  I was good and angry at places that don’t allow pets, yet Chester is super quiet and will not do anywhere near the amount of damage a human child will do.  But the laws won’t allow landlords to ban children.  Chalk that up to familism.
 
I struggled with whether to do this, but I decided I had nothing to lose by trying to get Chester in as an Emotional Support Animal.  Fortunately, the same laws that protect children can also protect animals.  The Fair Housing Act mandates condos and buildings to allow service animals and emotional support animals in the building, and even in those grey areas, the courts tend to favor the resident over the corporation (score one for the little guy!). 
 
And the day I went under contract, I felt a burst of emotion.  Excitement coupled with anxiety.  As I lay down on the couch, Chester put his paw over my heart; that biofeedback worked wonders.  He really is an ESA; aren’t most pets?
 
But I had to fill out an application, get a letter from my therapist, and drive up I-270 to Gaithersburg to get him licensed in Maryland.  I put those forward, but had to wait over a month.  The reason: they couldn’t officially approve him until I was an official resident of the condo.
 
Last week, I got the letter verifying Chester for what he really is.