Ten years ago if you told me one day I would have two dogs in my house, as a psychiatrist, I would have said that you’re delusional. My husband always wanted a dog and I always answered that dogs were filthy animals and I will never let one in the house. I also had a fear of dogs. Then one day at an autism conference, someone spoke on service dogs. I saw how they can help with behaviors and stop my daughter from running away. My husband was surprised when I came home and said I wanted a dog. Once outside, I was holding her hand and I tripped, let go of her hand, and she ran into the street. An SUV stopped within a few inches of hitting her. Seven years ago, after getting a dog, Cecil, I didn’t have to worry about it anymore. Talia learned to walk holding a handle on the dog, rather than someone’s hand, which is stigmatizing and not as secure. She is hooked up to the dog wherever there are cars looming around so I never had to worry about her running into traffic again. Even at school, having Cecil stopped Talia from running away. Other dangerous behaviors also decreased at home.
When Cecil had to retire, I was worried about a replacement. The organization that gave Talia Cecil stopped providing autism service dogs. I was worried about the cost and even if I could get a replacement dog. I have to pay Talia’s school tuition and the NYC Department of Education stopped paying her home applied behavior analysis therapists five months ago. I only work part time because of Talia’s needs, so my income is limited. I found out that BluePath would replace the dog at only a small fee for dog necessities such as preventive medications. We received Tricia in July.
Tricia has been great. Two months ago, while an applied behavior analysis therapist was taking Talia for a walk, she suddenly attacked him and he called me for help. As I ran outside, I knew at least she could not run into the traffic.
Last Saturday, my husband and I took Talia to synagogue and she was being too noisy. We left the main sanctuary and brought her to the preschool group. My husband went back to the sanctuary and I stayed with Talia watching the preschool children do activities and sing songs, while I had to keep redirecting Talia not to put a toy in her mouth. Then something hit me, like a stone being thrown at my heart. Talia is turning 18, will be a legal adult, and she couldn’t do- and most likely never will be able to do- what these preschool children were doing. The teacher was talking to the children about being grateful, and I thought she should tell them to be grateful that they can talk, as Talia only speaks a little bit. Tears started falling and I couldn’t find tissues nearby. I covered my face so no one else would see me and quietly asked another mother to watch Talia for a minute, telling her to make sure Talia doesn’t put the toy in her mouth. I ran to the bathroom and tried to use coping skills I tell my patients to use. I thought this was ironic, as I have tried to comfort countless parents crying in my office and here I was. When I returned, the other mother and Talia were at the door, as Talia was trying to leave the room, but Tricia thankfully stopped her, and for that I am grateful.