A few minutes into telling my friend about my recent vacation, she laughed and asked, “How did you just making friends everywhere you went?” I hadn’t realized it, but most of what I had to say about the two-week road trip I took with my husband across the southwest revolved around the people we met in each city. My friend had more than enough reason to be surprised by this. Over the last eight years she’s known me, she’s witnessed the myriad ways I’ve avoided conversation with anyone I wasn’t close with. I’ve come dangerously close to being rude in the kinds of social scenarios many people are naturally comfortable in, like a little casual small talk on line for the bathroom at Starbucks.

This vacation, though, felt like a revelation, and I didn’t even realize what about it had me feel so much happier and more carefree until I was recounting some key experiences. In Santa Fe, most of our day was spent chatting with the lovely owners of a cafe as well as other tourists. In Sedona, we had a leisurely glass of wine watching the sunset with a couple and their two kids. Near the Grand Canyon, we bonded with our waitress at a brewery. At brunch in Santa Monica, we were talking so much with people at the tables on either side of us that it felt like we were all at one big party.

What was the difference between this version of me, effortlessly chatting up people I’d never met, and the version of me that used to quickly change subway cars if I saw someone I worked with on mine? It wasn’t “vacation me.” I’ve been on plenty of trips that made me feel truly relaxed and happy, but I still wasn’t about to start, gasp, conversing with random strangers. It wasn’t my husband. We’ve been together for 11 years, and he knows I’m not exactly a social butterfly. He’s fairly introverted, as well, so he’s never pushed me to get cozy with fellow patrons at a restaurant or bar. We have a nice time keeping to ourselves for the most part. The secret was my...dog.

Courtney Iseman

I’ve dined out with my pug, Darby, many times in the four years we’ve had her, but always sporadically. Living in New York, we often have to leave Darby at home when we eat out, because she’s of course only allowed at certain spots with outdoor areas. It’s too cold, too rainy, too snowy, or all of the above for the majority of the year, anyway. When we can, we take her with us, and I may start to relax a little, but then it’s back to normal within a couple of hours. For this vacation, though, I meticulously researched and planned where we would eat every night so that Darby could come.

It was Darby’s first big vacation; we had never flown with her before. My therapist helped me certify her as my emotional support dog in time for the trip. Truth be told, I probably should have done this a long time ago. I struggle with anxiety, and Darby, a very attached and very snuggly little pug, calms me down instantly. However, I only realized what an actual necessity this move was after losing my mom last year. The grief made me even more introverted than ever before. If you didn’t already know what I was going through and what I was feeling, then I didn’t want to talk to you. I couldn’t. My favorite way to spend a day became one-on-one excursions to the park with Darby. She was there for me, and I didn’t even have to talk.

After my mom died, I started traveling more than I ever had. I had always loved to travel but now, it felt like an urgent need. It was a welcome distraction, it gave me a reason to be excited. I started prioritizing travel as my only real splurge in my freelancer life. The only downside was having to leave Darby. I was never worried about her—we’d leave her with my dad, a close friend, or a very trusted sitter—but I was gutted to have to be without her for more than a day. No matter how much I was looking forward to a trip, I usually spent the plane ride in tears.

I decided it was time for Darby to become my travel companion. I took all that time to research dog-friendly restaurants so that she could spend as much of our vacation physically with us as possible. Brunch after brunch and dinner after dinner, Darby accompanied us to restaurants across the southwest. With each meal that I had her next to me—feeling like she was part guardian, part hype girl—I became more and more at ease in my surroundings. I was so caught up in having a good time with Darby by my side that I forgot the things that stress me out, and I forgot to be wary of every person around me.

On top of Darby helping me feel generally more zen among a bustling brunch crowd, she also attracted a lot of attention. I’m hard-pressed to think of a situation in which it wouldn’t be a little weird to simply approach two strangers eating at a restaurant and start a discussion—except when there’s a cute dog or baby with them. People would naturally gravitate toward us at restaurants and breweries to talk about, or to, Darby. The conversation would just flow from there. I started to realize how much I actually liked talking to these people, even when the topic shifted away from my dog. This became a happy cycle: Darby would make me feel chill and content while out when I’d normally feel all wound up, then she’d attract friendly strangers. I’d love chatting with them, and that would make me continue to feel relaxed and wanting to get to know more people in more places.

Courtney Iseman

It makes me wonder, if we could all bring our pets everywhere, would we all be having fun getting to know each other all the time? This is probably an idealistic vision. For one thing, not everyone is in agreement on matters like how much supervision their dogs need when out to eat with them. If you look at the Yelp reviews for Brooklyn’s Pig Beach, there are more than a few that count the outdoor restaurant’s dog-friendly policy as a plus. One reviewer, however, recalls how a nearby dog licked her ribs because the dog’s owner wasn’t paying attention. If all of us dog owners don’t abide by a sort of social contract when we take our four-legged friends out around other people and food, the situation could turn from a friend-making utopia to an exchange of passive aggressive verbal jabs that would make a Real Housewife blush.

Then of course, there’s the fact that most restaurants simply aren’t set up to be able to accommodate dogs. Spokesperson for the New York State Department of Health Jill Montag specifies:

“State Public Health Law does allow food service operators to permit companion dogs in outdoor dining areas provided that certain sanitary controls are in place to prevent contamination and patrons are notified of the policy.”

Montag explains the reason for this is that, “Animals carry disease-causing organisms and can transmit pathogens to humans through direct and/or indirect contamination of food and surfaces.” New York’s policy is “consistent with the national standard established by the U.S. Food and Drug Administration’s Model Food Code.” Not only do dogs have to be outside, but this tends to mean that a restaurant has to provide a separate entrance to that outdoor area if it’s anything but open sidewalk seating, so that dogs don’t have to walk through the indoor restaurant to get to, say, a backyard. Santa Monica’s Ashland Hill , for example, has an outdoor entrance that runs along its side to its back patio. (It also has a special menu of food items for dogs, and Darby would recommend the beef patties over rice.)

While New York’s regulations are in line with the FDA’s, it is actually one of the more liberal states: Only nine states in the country allow dogs on restaurant patios. More states allow pups in spaces like breweries and wineries. Perhaps unsurprisingly, the move toward more dog-friendly dining spaces is leading to conflict . Service animals are allowed inside at restaurants, and some claim that dog owners are taking advantage of this along with the fact that a restaurateur can’t legally demand to see paperwork verifying a pet as a service animal. Apparently, it’s no longer unthinkable to dine next to a maltese at a Michelin-starred restaurant.

The health risks, the potential for fine dining establishments to be overrun by pets, the stage set for tension among fellow diners—these are all reasons I’m a fan of keeping it simple when it comes to heading out with your dog. Do your research especially when you’re traveling, and call ahead if you’ve never been to the restaurant before. That way, you know you’re walking into a place where you and your dog are welcome and you’re sure to have a lovely time. I take Darby places where I know she’s allowed, so not only do I not have to fret over the staff’s reactions, but I can simply enjoy mellowing out with my snorty bud and look forward to befriending the people next to us who want to say hello to Darby. Whether your dog is an emotional service dog or just your trusty companion, this recent vacation taught me that removing the potential stressors from taking him or her out to eat with you will really let you enjoy how purely fun and relaxing the experience can be.

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