Don M
Active member
- Jan 8, 2010
- 2,254
- 14
Some of you know that both my adult sons are Autistic. They are 28 and 30 (almost 31), but in many ways, they are still child-like and very innocent of the world. This is about my oldest son. Up until about 2 years ago, he was house-bound. He had a standing assignment from his Dr to go outside at least once a day for at least 10 minutes, and he could do anything - play his Game Boy or whatever, but he had to be outside. He could not do it. He would stay home when we went out no matter what we were going to do - including family gatherings on the holidays. He was very un-social, not 'anti-social' and was unable to interact with anyone not in our immediate family.
That ALL changed two years ago ... all because of a rescue dog, he named Ruby. There had been a raid on a (for a lack of a better word) puppy purgatory in a neighboring county. When the puppies were ready to be adopted out, they were spread out through the state and one of the centers was close to us. On a whim, since my son did so well with caring for his late grandfather's dog, and had shown a little improvement, we decided to start fresh with an actual puppy that he could raise and train and be totally responsible for.
I'll be danged if it didn't work FAR better than we could have ever hoped. My son took FULL responsibility - feeding, walking, training, etc. Not only did my son come completely out of his shell, he would initiate conversations with strangers and make eye contact while he was talking to them, He would, all on his own, leave the house and take Ruby for walks around the block (20 + minutes at a time). As a direct result of the walking, he lost almost 100 lbs. He still takes her to puppy classes - he went through all the classes and actually passed, but asked if he could repeat the classes, so he could improve on areas that he didn't quite get the first time around. When he first started the classes, he couldn't engage the trainer at all, no eye contact and no communication. Now he will approach her and ask questions and even debate some of the training techniques.
He also started going to family functions (as long as Ruby can go too) an has even asked to go to his grandmother's house to show off a new trick that Ruby has learned. To make things even more interesting, Ruby has SEVERE anxiety and is afraid of EVERYTHING, probably due to the conditions she suffered at the puppy purgatory before being rescued, and she takes Prozac daily. But she has completely bonded with my son, and has only in the last few months, warmed up to me and my wife.
I just needed to explain, how IMPORTANT this dog is to my son AND me and my wife, because of the drastic improvements in my son because of her. Now my son is definitely a "heart-thinker." He is is definitely empathy based in his thinking and feelings. According to my wife, this makes him "her" son, being emotionally aware and driven.
Now for the drama. Last night around 12 am, my wife woke me up and I could hear someone throwing up - hard. Turns out it was Ruby. I have never heard a dog throw up like that before. My son was almost in tears and the wife called the Animal Hospital. THEY could hear Ruby gagging and said to bring her right in, saying that it could be a few different things and that a couple of them were life-threatening, my heart fell. I wanted to go with them, but my youngest son, easily turns into a basket case at the slightest bump in life and he was going full-basket over the dog throwing up. *I* had to take an extra stress pill because I wasn't doing that great either.
It seemed like forever, but everything actually went pretty quickly. Fortunately the Hospital wasn't busy and they got her right in. They wanted to do X-rays and surprisingly she didn't have to be sedated to get them done. Then I got the 1st good news, her stomach looked fine, now they were going to check for bloat (which if you don't know what bloat is in a dog - I had to GOOGLE it - it is very serious and could be fatal for a dog). I was praying already, but I started praying HARDER. My knee was killing me and I was having a hard time sitting, standing, or even trying to walk. So I prayed: "Forget about me, just let my son's dog be OK, I'll learn to live with my knee."
A short time later, I got the 2nd good news - no bloat, no blockages, she didn't eat anything she shouldn't have. She did have a lot of gas in her system, but they contributed it to either eating her dinner too fast and getting a lot of air in, or - due to the violence of her throwing up, she sucked in a lot of air that way. Either way, they could tell the gas pressure was dissipating. They gave her 3 shots, one for pain, one for gas and one more for anti nausea, in addition to some oral, anti-gas medicine - basically TUMS or ROLAIDS. Since they had ruled out all the life-threatening possibilities, they felt that she would recover better at home due to her anxiety level.
Then my wife called me and gave me the 3rd good news, they were about to bring her home (on a slightly modified diet for a few days), and that Ruby was most likely going to be just fine. Since everything seemed to be good now, I laid back down. But first I left a post-it note on my son's computer: "I'm very happy your dog is OK, Dad."
This morning, Ruby seems a bit more subdued than normal, but after the trauma of last night (and the load of meds they gave her) I'm not surprised. But she did eat her modified breakfast well and seems to just be a little tired.
Thank God ... my son would NOT have been able to cope if she hadn't been OK, and neither would have I. It seems that in this instance, prayer works!
That ALL changed two years ago ... all because of a rescue dog, he named Ruby. There had been a raid on a (for a lack of a better word) puppy purgatory in a neighboring county. When the puppies were ready to be adopted out, they were spread out through the state and one of the centers was close to us. On a whim, since my son did so well with caring for his late grandfather's dog, and had shown a little improvement, we decided to start fresh with an actual puppy that he could raise and train and be totally responsible for.
I'll be danged if it didn't work FAR better than we could have ever hoped. My son took FULL responsibility - feeding, walking, training, etc. Not only did my son come completely out of his shell, he would initiate conversations with strangers and make eye contact while he was talking to them, He would, all on his own, leave the house and take Ruby for walks around the block (20 + minutes at a time). As a direct result of the walking, he lost almost 100 lbs. He still takes her to puppy classes - he went through all the classes and actually passed, but asked if he could repeat the classes, so he could improve on areas that he didn't quite get the first time around. When he first started the classes, he couldn't engage the trainer at all, no eye contact and no communication. Now he will approach her and ask questions and even debate some of the training techniques.
He also started going to family functions (as long as Ruby can go too) an has even asked to go to his grandmother's house to show off a new trick that Ruby has learned. To make things even more interesting, Ruby has SEVERE anxiety and is afraid of EVERYTHING, probably due to the conditions she suffered at the puppy purgatory before being rescued, and she takes Prozac daily. But she has completely bonded with my son, and has only in the last few months, warmed up to me and my wife.
I just needed to explain, how IMPORTANT this dog is to my son AND me and my wife, because of the drastic improvements in my son because of her. Now my son is definitely a "heart-thinker." He is is definitely empathy based in his thinking and feelings. According to my wife, this makes him "her" son, being emotionally aware and driven.
Now for the drama. Last night around 12 am, my wife woke me up and I could hear someone throwing up - hard. Turns out it was Ruby. I have never heard a dog throw up like that before. My son was almost in tears and the wife called the Animal Hospital. THEY could hear Ruby gagging and said to bring her right in, saying that it could be a few different things and that a couple of them were life-threatening, my heart fell. I wanted to go with them, but my youngest son, easily turns into a basket case at the slightest bump in life and he was going full-basket over the dog throwing up. *I* had to take an extra stress pill because I wasn't doing that great either.
It seemed like forever, but everything actually went pretty quickly. Fortunately the Hospital wasn't busy and they got her right in. They wanted to do X-rays and surprisingly she didn't have to be sedated to get them done. Then I got the 1st good news, her stomach looked fine, now they were going to check for bloat (which if you don't know what bloat is in a dog - I had to GOOGLE it - it is very serious and could be fatal for a dog). I was praying already, but I started praying HARDER. My knee was killing me and I was having a hard time sitting, standing, or even trying to walk. So I prayed: "Forget about me, just let my son's dog be OK, I'll learn to live with my knee."
A short time later, I got the 2nd good news - no bloat, no blockages, she didn't eat anything she shouldn't have. She did have a lot of gas in her system, but they contributed it to either eating her dinner too fast and getting a lot of air in, or - due to the violence of her throwing up, she sucked in a lot of air that way. Either way, they could tell the gas pressure was dissipating. They gave her 3 shots, one for pain, one for gas and one more for anti nausea, in addition to some oral, anti-gas medicine - basically TUMS or ROLAIDS. Since they had ruled out all the life-threatening possibilities, they felt that she would recover better at home due to her anxiety level.
Then my wife called me and gave me the 3rd good news, they were about to bring her home (on a slightly modified diet for a few days), and that Ruby was most likely going to be just fine. Since everything seemed to be good now, I laid back down. But first I left a post-it note on my son's computer: "I'm very happy your dog is OK, Dad."
This morning, Ruby seems a bit more subdued than normal, but after the trauma of last night (and the load of meds they gave her) I'm not surprised. But she did eat her modified breakfast well and seems to just be a little tired.
Thank God ... my son would NOT have been able to cope if she hadn't been OK, and neither would have I. It seems that in this instance, prayer works!
