‘No pets allowed’: The shameful case of the diabetic refused a home for having a medical assistance dog

Thought ableism was rare in modern Britain? You need to hear David Rudkin’s story.

I’ve been on the receiving end of some nasty experiences and I’ve talked to a lot of victims through the course of my job. But Rudkin’s struck even me as a particularly shocking and egregious case.

First, the background. Rudkin, like me, has type one diabetes, which is an autoimmune disorder that prevents us from metabolising carbohydrates and requires insulin – the homone that does the job – to be administered via injections or a pump.

Lacking the homeostatic mechanism that controls our blood sugar puts us at constant risk of hypoglycaemia, which is when your blood sugar falls to dangerously low levels.

Some (like me) can usually tell when this is happening. But some, like Rudkin, cannot. T1 is a quirky condition that doesn’t follow a set rulebook, despite when some medical professionals would have you believe.

I have to admit, I shuddered as Rudkin explained the sudden and dramatic falls in blood glucose he sometimes experiences. They hit him faster than even modern sensors attached to the arm can detect. By the time the alarm (they’re linked to a mobile phone) is screeching, it is often too late. What’s more, those alarms don’t always work.

So, Rudkin has a medical detection dog, Beau – who is much quicker on the draw than an iPhone. When Rudkin is out and about, Beau will stop and refuse to walk further if his marvellous canine ofractory system detects a hypo. When he’s at home, Beau will rest his head on Rudkin’s knee and stare at him until he pricks his finger to test his sugar and then pops a glucose tablet or three.

Prior to his all important third year, Rudkin and his (human) partner thought, after the usual agonising search, that they’d found the answer to their accommodation needs. A ground level flat with wooden floors opposite a big park? Perfect.

“We ticked the box that said no pets because Beau is not a pet,” they told me. “He’s more like a mobility aid.”

But when they supplied the estate agent with the details about the dog, backed with evidence and papers from the charity which supplied him – Medical Detection Dogs – the tenancy offer was rescinded.

The excuse? Rudkin and his partner had been “dishonest” because they’d ticked that “no pets” box.

But Beau is not a pet. He is an aid (or maybe an aide), relied upon by a person with a disability. Rudkin’s mother told me that she would have been reluctant to have him go university were it not for Beau – her son’s condition is that serious.

The result of the tenancy collapse is that Rudkin is now back at the family home in Devon, trying his best to make it work studying online for a maths degree. His partner, meanwhile, is also at home, trying to complete a law degree online.

I imagine that many people reading this would think, wait, what? This actually happened? In 2023?

Even the House of Commons – a place of undeniable antiquity – has a modern approach to medical assistance animals. David Blunkett, the former home secretary, was regularly accompanied his guide dog for years, without much in the way of comment. He still is, now he’s in the Lords.

If Westminster, with all its pomposity and arcane procedures, can reconcile itself to a cabinet minister with a guide dog, you’d think that a modern university tenancy could, too.

Apparently not. In fact, Guide Dogs for the Blind says Westminster was – and is – actually setting an example on this issue. Which is the weirdest thing I’ve written in quite some time.

The charity’s research shows that 81 per cent of guide dog owners have been refused access to a business or service at some point. And around half said they had changed or restricted their plans because they were concerned that they would encounter this type of problem.

The charity, who told me Rudkin’s case was “very disappointing”, is now calling for the government to take action to strengthen the law, with a view to ending what a spokesperson called “unacceptable discrimination.” And so it should.

Rudkin’s previous landlord, when he was renting in a house shared by six students, had no problems. Nor should they have done: assistance dogs are highly trained animals. Those that show evidence of difficult behaviour don’t even get past the training programme.

Rudkin is now investigating his legal options and looking for representation. But opening a legal case can be a daunting prospect at the best of times, much less when one is in the pivotal year of a tough degree course at a Russell Group university. However, I hope he finds someone willing to take this on.

What this is really an example of, in my view, is the shameful ableism that persists throughout every strata of our supposedly “modern” society. What he is the victim of here is far too common.