Autism Service Dogs

Yesterday, while Glindy and I were out and about, there was a young girl bouncing a large beach ball inside the building. While this was obviously inappropriate, I was more concerned by the fact that it seemed to be getting Glindy worked up. Glindy couldn't take her eyes off the bouncing ball, and at one point she barked at it.

It was only a single bark, and she responded well to the correction, but I can't help wondering what Glindy was really trying to communicate. Was she scared or aroused by the sight of the ball? Was the metallic-sounding boing bothering her? Was she frustrated that she couldn't chase after it? Maybe she was just warning me that someone was doing something out of the ordinary in a place where people don't usually bounce balls? I'm just not sure.

Anyway, this isn't an issue that's likely to come up often, so I'm not losing any sleep over it; I'm just curious. Meanwhile, I'll be keeping my eyes (and ears) open in the future, just in case this becomes a training or desensitization issue somewhere down the road.

Glindy and I had our first haircut together on Tuesday. While I've gotten my haircut plenty of times, and Glindy's been to the groomer's more than she'd like, this was the first time Glindy had ever come with me when I got my hair cut.

To be honest, I wasn't quite sure how we were going to work it. After all, I didn't want to let her roam free, but I also didn't want her to get in the stylist's way. However, I have faith that these things will work themselves out, so off we went.

When we got there, I was overpowered by the smells. My stylist works in a salon where they mostly handle women, so my nose was assaulted by the smells of acetone, nail polish, burning fingernails from filing, bleach, and hair dye. It made my eyes water. Glindy, trooper that she is, took it completely in stride; she didn't wig out at all, despite the olfactory provocation.

When the stylist was ready for me, I noticed that her mirror sat above a small table that was just deep enough for Glindy to lay under. I put her in a down-stay under the table where she was safely out of the way, but wasn't quite sure what to do with the leash.

Wanda, my stylist, had the solution. She opened a drawer in the table, and I put the leash handle inside. She closed the drawer, and viola! Glindy was now lightly tethered to the table, and unlikely to wander off even if she broke her stay.

While I got my hair cut, the stylist and I discussed service dogs and hidden disabilities. It turns out that her husband also has an invisible disability, so we commiserated about the bias many people have about non-obvious disabilities like ours. It was uplifting.

So, with a fabulous haircut and another training milestone under our belts, the week was off to a good start.

Glindy and I went to The Canine Club for training this evening. It was an unusually successful night for us, and I wanted to share the details.

While I always enjoy working with both of the owners, Glindy is usually a little cautious around Robin because she's such a high-energy person. Tonight, though, she was so happy to see Robin you would have thought they'd been best friends forever. She was actively seeking out attention from Robin, and threw behaviors at her all night long. It was great!

Tonight, we particularly wanted to work on several new behaviors. The things we focused on were waving, front, and retrieving people.

As I've mentioned before, both Glindy and I prefer to avoid tactile greetings with strangers. So, as a substitute, we're working on teaching Glindy to wave hello to people. A dog waving at you is likely to distract from the fact that no one is shaking your hand, which lets me off the hook nicely. In addition, it allows Glindy to avoid having her paws handled (as with "shake"), which will make her happy too.

It only took about five minutes or so for Robin to elicit a paw wave from Glindy. My timing was a bit less exact; and since I've also taught Glindy an imperfect paw-touch command, she often got a bit confused between the two. Still, inside of ten minutes we were getting a reliable wave from Glindy. After a little more practice, I plan to put it on a "say hi" cue before taking our new task on the road.

Next, we worked on "front." I'm not after an obedience-style front here; what I really need is better maneuvering through doorways, especially in cases where I'm dragging luggage behind me and it would be inconvenient to step through together. At present, Glindy will either go through with me, or go out ahead when I give her the "go on" command. The new idea here is that Glindy will step through a doorway ahead of me, then turn around and face me until I'm over the threshold.

While I haven't really put it on cue yet, I found I could elicit the behavior I wanted in about two minutes by using my fingertip as a target. All our previous target work really paid off here. I'll continue practicing this one, and add the "front" cue and fade the fingertip targeting once the behavior's a little more solid.

Lastly, but most importantly, we worked on "get Todd." This is a key behavior which is tied directly to my disability, so mastering it is a vital step on our road to full service dog status.

I determined that this command would mean "locate Todd, and then lead him back to the person who issued the cue." I felt that this entire sequence would be easier to teach than "find Todd," even though it sounds counter-intuitive since "finding" seems like a prerequisite to "bringing." My reasoning was that having Glindy go in search of me without outpacing the person who wanted to do the finding was a more complex task to teach.

At any rate, we started out slowly, with me only a few feet away. Robin gave Glindy the "get Todd" cue, and I encouraged Glindy to come over to me. Then I walked her back over to Robin for praise and a treat.

It sounds pretty simple, but Glindy was clearly confused the first few times we tried it. In short order, though, she was coming to get me at distances of up to 20 feet or so, and eagerly leading me back to Robin. All three of us were excited that the session was so successful.

We need lots more practice with "get Todd," but we're definitely making quick progress. Next time, we're going to add an unambiguous visual cue, so that Glindy won't go running off to find me without someone's direct intention. The visual cue I've selected is the get symbol from American Sign Language. It's a sign that's pretty unlikely to occur in casual usage, while still being intuitive and apropos.

Overall, this was a great night. Glindy had fun, and we both made a lot of progress. I could use more evenings like this one.

Even though I haven't posted much lately, I've been keeping busy. A few weeks ago, I had the opportunity to engage in a little ADA advocacy, and I thought I'd share that here.

The trainer that I occasionally work with referred someone to me for advice about access problems with Amtrak. Apparently, this woman had a self-trained mobility-assistance dog, and had called Amtrak's customer service to ensure that there would be no problems with taking her dog on a previously-scheduled trip.

The customer service agent at Amtrak told this woman that she needed a doctor's letter, special identification for the dog, and training certifications. Naturally, this stymied the woman, and she wasn't sure what to do.

This didn't sound right to me, since both Title II and Title III of the ADA cover rail service. In addition, I'm fairly sure that Amtrak falls under Section 504 of the Rehabilitation Act, since they receive federal funding. And while some states still require special certifications for guide dogs, that wouldn't apply in this case even if the federal laws didn't supersede such regulations.

I suggested that this woman had received bad information from the customer service agent, and that she should call back and insist on speaking with a supervisor to clear up the issue. I further suggested that she use the following language to avoid confusing the issue:

I spoke to a customer service agent earlier, and believe I was given some incorrect information regarding Amtrak's policies regarding travel with service animals. I want to ensure that there won't be any confusion at the station or problems boarding the train, and would appreciate your help in clarifying the issue.

I told her that if they insisted on documentation of some kind, that she should ask the supervisor to identify the source of that policy, since it clearly isn't required under federal law. When issues like this arise, it's usually best to gather as many facts as possible before deciding on a course of action.

I told her that, if they didn't resolve the issue to her satisfaction, I'd be happy to advocate for her in my capacity as a private citizen. I didn't think it would come to that, though, and I was right.

When she called Amtrak back, she had to insist rather firmly on speaking to a supervisor, but once she reached one the issue was dealt with easily. The supervisor told her that she had indeed received incorrect information, and that he would note on her ticket that she was traveling with a service dog so that there wouldn't be any further issues.

I just love happy endings, don't you?

My father is in town this week. This is the first time we've seen each other since Glindy and I became a team. The three of us went out to dinner this evening, and he was very impressed by Glindy's behavior in the casino and at the restaurant.

My father's side of the family was raised with a strong dislike of dogs, so the fact that he is both accepting and supportive of my new service dog lifestyle is very important to me. Several of my other relatives have been dramatically less supportive, so this was a really big deal.

Thanks, Dad! This really meant a lot to me.

Good fences make good neighbors. Bad fences, on the other hand...

I live in a neighborhood where everyone has boundary fences, and most of them were built thirty years ago when the housing development was new. As you can imagine, a thirty year old wooden fence has long outlived its intended structural life, but none of the neighbors really want to deal with fixing them.

Yesterday, one of my neighbors came over to hammer violently on my door. Apparently, some of the rotten wooden pickets between our yards had given way, and Glindy, Spencer, and Benny were running around exploring my neighbor's back yard.

The good news is that the dogs all came when I called, and the neighbor nailed the rotten wooden pickets back in place. The bad news is that this neighbor is terrified of dogs, especially dogs Glindy's size. So, needless to say, we need to take steps to ensure this doesn't happen again.

This, of course, raises all kinds of problems. Boundary fences--and dogs--make for a few weird points of law. By law, I'm required to "contain my dogs." But my neighbors and I are equally required to maintain, repair, and replace common fencing. Since we own the fence in common, I can't simply take unilateral action except in very certain circumstances.

In practice, what this means is that my neighbors are all likely to try to shift the entire burden of repairing this ancient and dilapidated fence onto me, all the while trying to tell me what kind of fence I can replace it with, and what materials will meet their personal stylistic approval.

This is further complicated by the fact that I have four neighbors who share this boundary fence. Getting five households to agree to anything, much less agreeing to split costs fairly, is going to be a challenge.

I have to fix the fence in short order, whether my neighbors cooperate or not. So, I'm hitting the law books. If necessary, I'll fix the fence and then sue my neighbors to recover their part of the costs. I just think it would be so much nicer if they lived up to their responsibilities as well, instead of laying it all on me simply because I have dogs. *sigh*