ShareThisBy MARIA ELENA BACA
Minneapolis-St. Paul Star Tribune
Monday, May 28, 2007
It was a Tuesday evening in late March at Glynner's Pub in Rochester, Minn. Brad and Joanie Trahan were settling their family into their usual table when their middle son, Reece, who has severe autism, began to whine and flail his arms.
"Don't bite, Reecey," his dad, Brad, intoned, once again stopping his son from nervously biting himself on his bruised forearms.
During dinner, Reece, nearly 7, kept his father busy. First he darted toward a heaping nacho plate at a nearby table; Brad intercepted him just in time. Later, Reece stacked and unstacked cups, moving Brad's hand to help him with his cup, taking a sip, putting it down, asking for more. Brad patiently did the tasks his son set for him. It looked exhausting.
That was before the arrival of Pudge, a black Labrador who began living with the Trahans in March after a 2 1/2 - year wait.
The idea of using service dogs to aid autistic kids is relatively new. National Service Dogs (NSD) of Kitchener, Ontario, first experimented with the pairing 11 years ago and has placed about 125 dogs, only two of them in the United States. NSD also is one of the few service dog providers that specializes in training dogs for kids with autism.
Service dogs make autistic children safer, can help them interact socially and can reduce some parental stress if families go into the relationship with realistic expectations, said Kristen Burrows, a researcher from the Ontario Veterinary College at the University of Guelph.
Reece's autism was diagnosed in January 2003, three months before his third birthday. He doesn't speak. He wears a diaper. He moves constantly, his hands working beads, phone cords, bouncy balls and other favorite objects. He has a limited ability to interact with people, even his family. His behavior has been unpredictable. Crowds, loud noises and transitions agitate him.
In April, the Trahans again went to Glynner's for dinner -- this time with Pudge. Reece was agitated. He pressed his thumbs up into his earlobes and swayed, whining. He resisted Brad's attempts to reassure him. Brad hooked the tether that Reece wears on his belt to Pudge's vest.
Reece resisted, wrenching at the 5-foot tether and pulling it taut. Pudge lay still as the sphinx, stopping Reece from darting across the restaurant. After a minute, Reece gave up. Then he stepped over his dog to the table and calmly began to sip at a glass of water.
He went on to feed himself and play quietly as his parents chatted over a leisurely dinner. A first.
On March 31, the Trahans, including Brad's parents, traveled to Minneapolis-St. Paul International Airport in a limousine, courtesy of a family friend, to pick up Brad and the dog. Brad's flight was delayed; the family loitered around the baggage carousel until Brenden, 8, bellowed "DAD!" and broke into a sprint, with Payton, 3, at his heels.
Both kids leaped into their dad's arms; he staggered up the hall, with a child on each arm while leading a handsome black dog in a purple work vest. Back with his mother, Reece giggled and skipped at the sight of his father, and snuck sidelong glances at the dog.
"Reecey, c'mere, bud," Brad said, taking Reece's hand and pulling him to the reclining Pudge. "You'd better get used to him. You're gonna like him, aren't you?"
After several shy attempts, Reece leaned in and put a hand on Pudge's head for a moment, before snatching it away. Instead, he nudged the dog's paw with his toe and giggled again.
That night in bed, Pudge curled up at Reece's feet. For the first time in nearly seven years, Reece slept the whole night through in his own bed.
Unlike many kids with autism, Reece loves hugs, rough-housing and tickles. He uses gestures to communicate his needs. He is also singularly happy; his giggle could fill a room. Still, Reece's autism has taken a toll on the family. Before Pudge, they rarely went to church as a family, had never taken a family vacation, feared going to unfamiliar places. Brenden and Payton are self-possessed and independent, but Brad and Joanie worry that they've had to grow up too fast.
Over the first couple of weeks, the Trahans acclimated to having a dog in the house, and Pudge slowly got to know his charge. Brad and Joanie noticed small changes in Reece's behavior. He continued to sleep through the night. He was more likely to hang out with the family in the evenings, rather than hole up in Brenden's room with his toys and Barney videos. He started to eat dinner at the table with the family.
Now, Reece seems to look to Pudge for guidance. When they're not together, Reece looks around on the floor for his dog. The biting and the frustration have all but ceased when Pudge is with Reece in public.
"He just seems to know that Pudge is there," said Brad, "and he knows when Pudge goes, he's got to go, too. It's like he and Pudge are communicating that to each other."
Last month, the family went to church together for Brenden's first communion. Reece sat contentedly through a 90-minute service.
"We do feel that Pudge is bringing him confidence and calmness," Brad said. If all goes well, Pudge may be accompanying Reece to school by January.
(Reach Maria Elena Baca at mbaca (at)startribune.com. For more stories or to comment visit scrippsnews.com)
