urocyon

We hadn't been planning on getting a dog, but I ran across a 10-year-old Staffie who needs a new home, and am sorely tempted to try to give him one.

This isn't just because I'm a chump when it comes to animals, though I'll freely admit that I can be. There aren't nearly as many people wanting to adopt older animals. Trying to find other arrangements for 15-year-old B.B. made me even more aware of this. It also isn't just because I love dogs, and miss B.B.--who made me realize just how much I like Staffies.

Spending time with B.B. again helped me realize just how much she was helping me day to day. I was aware that there are helper dogs for auties, but had taken for granted all the ways in which B.B. taught herself to help, beyond the basic emotional support. This was probably also a good bit of the reason my Nana made sure I always had at least one dog with me as a kid, without even thinking about disability! That wasn't just for snake protection. Having spent most of my life in mutually beneficial relationships with dogs, I'm really missing not having that.

I had a much easier time getting out and about with B.B. along. Dogs have also been helping other folks with PTSD with this. Not only am I more likely to get out, as Jim Sinclair--an autie who started training service dogs--put it:

I found that with my dog by my side, my overall awareness and orientation to my surroundings was better. I actually understood more of what I saw and heard when I had the dog to direct my attention to the particular things in the environment that were important for me to attend to. . .
Isosceles has enabled me to recognize acquaintances when I encounter them, which has made it easier for acquaintances to turn into friends. He has helped to initiate some social contacts, by noticing when someone was interested in meeting us. With Isosceles as my partner, I am more oriented to my social environment as well as to my physical environment.

B.B. helped me with these things, on her own. She let me know if there was something I should be aware of, or if someone else was trying to get my attention. I've adjusted a lot, but still have trouble with the urban equivalent of getting distracted by a squirrel up a tree, so that I blunder right into a greenbrier thicket. (Rabbit, I'm not.) I'm not always good at telling when people are trying to get my attention, especially if I'm feeling bombarded by a crowded, noisy environment. Between the auditory processing and the hearing loss in one ear (from chronic allergic otitis media, which keeps popping the eardrum), I frequently can't tell when people are calling my name, but it doesn't take much encouragement for most dogs to give an alert.

I have also noticed that, with a dog along to pay attention to the environment, I don't need to be so hypervigilant, so am able to filter out more stimuli and get less overloaded. This is one of the "PTSD on top of sensory issues" things. It's worse when I'm in pain and feeling more vulnerable, especially if I'm limping or needing to use the stick; not entirely surprising, when I've spent too much time in environments where people were liable to knock my crutches out from under me for a laugh! At any rate, having a dog along to watch out for potential threats takes that much more out of the mental processing queue, which tends to get pretty backed up in public anyway. Having someone along to quite literally watch my back makes things much easier and more pleasant.

Another benefit there is that, even without specific training to help keep more personal space around the human, walking with a dog tends to provide it anyway. I still have to consciously tell myself that people do not mean anything by crowding in, being in an urban environment with different ideas about personal space. For comfort--which includes not feeling actively under attack--I need more than most, even back home. Again, I need more when I'm in pain or sensory overload, and don't even like for humans I trust (like Ingvar) to get very close or touch me.

One thing Jim Sinclair mentions, which I hadn't considered, is help with getting lost. With my navigation skills, it's all too easy to get turned around, and most dogs are better at telling where you should be going! Training is probably not necessary for my needs, depending on the dog. If I couldn't figure out how I got turned around, I would just let B.B. lead, and she would head back to a more familiar place.

B.B. would also go and get help--usually my mom--when she noticed that I'd fallen down or had gone into shutdown or meltdown. "Hey, Alpha Female, come and do something about this!" This helped more than once when I was overloaded from getting injured, and couldn't talk. When nobody else was around, or I didn't seem seriously hurt, she would get me calmed down much more quickly than I would have done otherwise. (Handy for things like, erm, first aid!) She would also sit down with me and lean against me to get hugged when I was upset/overloaded, which is much less threatening than human touch. This is another thing I hadn't thought of as being specifically therapeutic, but is apparently a frequent part of ASD service dog training.

Knowing what I do now about the variety of ways service dogs can help, I would probably try to get a dog registered as such, were I back home. It's harder in the UK, which is a shame. Being able to take a dog into grocery stores* and the like would be very helpful. Then again, if I'm not as overwhelmed by the time I get there, dealing with the actual shopping shouldn't be as difficult.

Most of this help just falls under the category of "being a good dog friend," and reciprocity. I was mainly interested in the companionship and emotional support, but have gained a better appreciation for the practical side of things. Living with B.B., I just took that for granted. I don't expect a new dog to do all the same things, but with a little encouragement and training, s/he could provide a lot of support which the cats cannot. Not too surprisingly, it's easier for me to request and accept help from an animal, without feeling ickily vulnerable, as just part of the relationship.

My main concern here is, indeed, the cats. (

vatine is a bit of a concern, too; even though he liked spending time with B.B., he's just not used to being around dogs.) This dog is supposed to be good with cats--again, can't expect him to love cats like B.B.--but I'm not sure how the kitties would react. I was not as concerned about B.B., when we were still hoping she'd travel OK at her age, since she puts out such a strong "ooh, I adore cats" vibe that she doesn't scare most of them. I would take great care with the introduction, of course, and sure do hope that's enough. At least none of these cats has had reason to develop a serious fear of dogs, unlike a couple of rescue kitties who have lived with me in past.** I've considered trying to find a small dog, preferably as a puppy, which they might find less intimidating. (But, that might remind Feist of a fox, and bring out aggression!) Max is an adult, but Staffies aren't very big, and he's old enough to have calmed down.

Decisions, decisions! I couldn't resist sending Max's human a message--before consulting anyone else :/--and should try to get back to her today.
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* Pretty good description of the fun of a supermarket, even for an adult
** One was terrified of a tiny 8-week-old rescue B.B., to the point of leaving. He would periodically check back in, to see if she was still there! He and his littermates had spent at least a couple of days abandoned in a neighborhood with roaming dogs, at less than six weeks old. :/