Spit on your dog
Autism comes in many forms and affects everyone differently. One aspect is the volume of speech, if and when “speech” is available.
My younger son is loud when he speaks words and loud when he stims. The only time he is not loud is when echolalia takes over, in which case his volume matches what he has heard and repeats. Recently, he has learned the concept of whispering, the concept only, while he practices the practice. The effort involved is quite extraordinary and takes a great deal of heavy breathing and body contortions, but as yet, to very little effect.
My older son is generally inaudible, sotto voce. Sometimes he starts off well but the end of his sentence withers, until it peters out.
The arrival of our new pet makes for some very interesting developments. Everyone is keen to communicate with Thatcher, the dog, mainly by barking. This logic is lost on the dog. To date, Thatcher has not uttered a single note, barring the odd whimper, a dose of severe hic-cups and a squeal of surprise when he crossed paths with a cat.
Most of the commands for dog training are simple, sometimes with accompanying hand gestures. In principle, all of us should use the same words and gestures. Remarkably, everyone is willing to try, and try, and try again, many, many times without so much as a minor meltdown in the face of continued failure and frustration.
The squeaks, screams and squeals from my son frighten Thatcher. Suddenly my son begins to learn consequences for behaviour that has been unable to control. He doesn’t want to frighten Thatcher. He sees him cower and shiver. He now appreciates the causal affect. Previously he has been oblivious or possibly merely unmotivated.
Meanwhile the sainted Thatcher puts up with us, his new family. I suspect that some time soon the Humane Society will come to call. Since neither child is able to “pronounce” the digraph “th,” Thatcher is the only dog in America to be repeatedly spat upon, as the boys struggle with uncooperative tongues. Fortunately, Thatcher is not similarly limited. His tongue just laps it all up.
January 9th, 2009 at 6:06 am
Thatcher is a natural social skills mentor! My boys have a dog at their dad’s house, and he too is teaching my boys several limits that no one else could. For example, Taz has never responded to my repeated demands that he use “gentle touch” when he strokes my hair (which is why I am going bald). The dog, rather than using his bark to redirect Taz(unlike your dog, he is an annoying yipper), finally used his bite. Suddenly, Taz is the master of gentle touch! Makes me wish I’d bitten him years ago (darn that T. Berry Brazelton and his “don’t-abuse-your-children” directives).
January 9th, 2009 at 6:39 am
Sweetums has Cat. A long, silent sufferer. I often think of Lennie in Of Mice and Men. I truly believe Cat senses that dealing with Sweetums requires a great deal of patience. Either that, or he is planning an attack of major proportions.
January 9th, 2009 at 8:06 am
Ok, I think I need to print out some of these posts and show them to Niksdad as fodder for my argument in favor of having a dog.
I hate to sound like a broken record but…Thatcher is so obviously doing great things for the boys and for your entire family. Good doggie!
January 9th, 2009 at 8:28 am
ahh, dogs love that!
January 9th, 2009 at 10:18 am
You know what I love? As formerly non-verbal communicators, so many autistic kids are very, very keen to communicate with pets – nonverbal communicators that they are. My own children cannot have a dog yet – we’re renters. But we do have one enormous, foul-tempered cat. With whom we mostly communicate in cat-speak, because he does not condescend to speak “people.” I hiss, growl, meow, trill, and purr to him, and he and I entirely understand each other. Poor animal is trained like a dog, actually, and sits for treats among other tricks.
But listening to my children earnestly ask for translation when the cat meows, and watching them patiently explain things to the cat (without the do-overs, echolalia, and other oddities that mar their speech with people), I realize that animals are even more important in the lives of autistic children than they are in the lives of NT children.
Congratulations on integrating Thatcher. I’m certain that he’ll prove a wonderful addition to the sensory and social routine – and the love swirling around the household.
January 9th, 2009 at 12:00 pm
Fatcher wants you to read “The story of Edgar Sawtelle.”
I am only 1/2 way through it (and am therefore in no place to actually recommend), but each time I see sweet Thatcher and your sweet boys, I am reminded of Edgar and his dogs.
January 9th, 2009 at 12:55 pm
isn’t it amazing what an animal can bring out of people? i have a friend whose dog is certified as a therapy dog and she has told me a number of stories about the responses her “rusty” has gotten from people.
January 9th, 2009 at 4:34 pm
See, I have 5 cats because of Evan!
January 9th, 2009 at 4:45 pm
Our 2 dogs have taught a fair few social behaviour consequences to my son, too
January 9th, 2009 at 10:56 pm
That is amazing. I’m really starting to be keen on the idea of a pet.
January 9th, 2009 at 11:12 pm
That is fantastic! Interesting, though, how our kids are sometimes more motivated to accommodate animals than people . . .
January 12th, 2009 at 10:02 pm
Maddy, I am LOVING the Thatcher posts. You have always have a way of making me laugh and appreciate the things I would be inclined to lament about (such as uncooperative tongues or echolalia). Thanks to you and your boys and Thatcher.
January 12th, 2009 at 10:03 pm
Maddy, I am LOVING the Thatcher posts. You always have a way of making me laugh and appreciate the things I would be inclined to lament about (such as uncooperative tongues or echolalia). Thanks to you and your boys and Thatcher.