Monthly Archives: June 2009

Autism and Pets

Betcha didn’t know! June is National Adopt-A-Cat Month!

Did I hear a ‘so what?’ I know. Many people are allergic to cats. Many people prefer dogs. Many people prefer fish, rodents, or reptiles. And that’s okay. Because any pet will teach a child responsibility, compassion, how to handle death, and more. Pets also bring comfort, amusement, and can present a calming influence. I know. Every day I see the benefits of having pets – with both of my boys.

Over the years, we’ve been the proud humans of five cats, a dog, a rat, a mouse, and several fish. Currently, we share our abode with three wonderful cats, two adopted from local shelters and one from a neighbor. There’s Midnight, our sleek black male shorthair, Sheba, our pretty black-and-tan tabby (see her here!), and our medium-haired little gray girl, which Nigel named Winter (see below). The boys love all of the cats, but Winter’s the newest, so she gets the most attention. Nigel will hold her and walk through the house, saying to anyone in earshot, “Look at her! Just look at her! Look at how cute she is! It’s like she jumped straight out of a painting.” Then he snuggles his face into hers and says, “If your parents could meet you now, they’d be so proud of you!” Aidan loves her just as much. He bursts through the front door when he gets home from school every day and says, “Where’s Winter? Where’s that little princess? I have to pet her!” And then he squeals when he finds her. They are in love with this cat.

And since she’s not their first cat, they’ve learned about death from the ones that came before her. We had one hit by a car a few years ago, and as sad as it was for the boys (and me), our cat’s death helped prepare them emotionally for their great-grandfather’s death several months later. And when Nigel’s very own pet mouse, that he kept in his room and was responsible for entirely, died last year, he handled it with more maturity than I would ever have expected.

Oh, yes, they grumble and complain about having to empty the litter box. They “forget” to do it. But then they see what happens when they “forget,” and they realize that their pets are dependent upon them for their care. And they learn about treating their pets with kindness and respect. Sometimes, this carries over into their dealings with people. At least, that’s the idea.

It’s also worth noting that people on the spectrum can often relate to animals easier than they can to people, such as Temple Grandin with cows or John Elder Robison and dogs. I definitely see this with Nigel. He was playing with Winter a few days ago, pulling a string through the house and laughing as she chased it. After some time, he put the string away and went to the kitchen to get a snack. Then he went to his bedroom to get something, and after that he went to the bathroom. Winter followed him closely the entire time, running right alongside him like a little gray shadow. After a minute of this I heard Nigel say to her, “There’s no way of escaping you, Winter, but I’m glad of it!” He said it in such a sweet, loving tone, with more inflection than he’s ever used when talking to people.

*sigh*  A boy and his cat. Love at first purr.

The Tie-Dye Project

Remember Alex Barton? Let me jog your memory – he’s the boy whose Kindergarten teacher saw fit to have his fellow students vote him out of the class, as if it were a Survivor episode. After reading about it, I was beside myself with strong emotions: sadness, disbelief, and fury. How DARE (yes, I’m yelling) that teacher disregard the self-esteem of one of her students? How DARE she teach her other students to insult him and cast him aside, instead of helping them to show compassion because of his differences?

Well, friends, fortunately the story didn’t end there. It was the beginning of another story – one of love, acceptance, and connectedness. A way to show Alex that people do care, that people are supportive. And we can all be a part of it.

Melissa Barton, Alex’s mom, with a little inspiration from Kyra of ThisMom, came up with The Tie-Dye Project. It began with Alex and his mom making five tie-dyed shirts and sending them out to five ASD kids. Each of those kids (and their parents) received a note on how to continue the project – just make five more tie-dyed shirts and send them out to five ASD kids. When was the last time a fun project had so much meaning behind it? Love, support, and understanding among kids on the spectrum. It’s a wonderful thing.

Yesterday Nigel received his shirt from Kendall. “This is really nice,” he said, checking it out. I told him about Alex, and Nigel is very excited to be a part of the shirt-making chain for ASD kids. He’s raring to go, so all we need now are five participants who would like to receive a tie-dye shirt from Nigel! Just leave a comment if you’d like one, even if you’ve not left a comment before, and I’ll email you to get your address.

Join in! As Nigel said to me in his flat but beautiful voice, “We need to get the word out.” And we will.

About Face

Clenched teeth and narrow eyes? Angry. Tears streaming down face? Sad. Smile? Happy. Open mouth and wide eyes? Scared. Furrowed brow and tight lips? Not sure.

Over the years, Nigel has learned to read the cues of basic emotions and identify them, but he has yet to do the same for emotions that are less easily recognized, such as worry, relief, disinterest, embarrassment, confusion, and disappointment. They talk about these in his social skills class, and we talk about them at home, of course, but it’s hard for him to catch on. And it’s always difficult to apply the situations of Social Skills Class to the real world, although it’s certainly worth trying. Today, however, I stumbled across a more effective method.

It’s Disaster Movie Weekend here at Chez Nigel, during which he watches everything but the 2008 parody/spoof called Disaster Movie, which, he says, is not a real disaster movie. After cleaning his room more thoroughly than ever before, he was rewarded with a full movie weekend while Mom works (mostly) unhindered in her office, appearing only to make dinner (that was the plan, anyway). Nigel began with various Godzilla flicks, moved on to Deep Impact, Core, Volcano, and finished with his favorites, Twister and The Day After Tomorrow.

I’ve never been able to figure out why he enjoys these types of movies so much, but he has for a long time. He first saw Twister at the age of five, and has loved it ever since. He’ll rarely go more than a few weeks without watching it. Then a few years ago came The Day After Tomorrow, and all I can say is at least we now have an alternative to Twister. DAT has everything he loves about disaster movies – imminent destruction and earnest people trying to either stop it from happening or survive it. He doesn’t care about the writing or the acting. He doesn’t care if the movie got bad reviews. He’s just concerned with the main idea and the special effects (although he lets that slide for the old Godzilla movies he holds so dear).

So he’s watching The Day After Tomorrow out in the living room, and I venture out of my office in the early afternoon to facilitate lunch. I come and stand beside the couch, watching a scene near the end in which the father is reunited with his teenage son, for whom he had been searching. I’ve unwillingly watched this scene (and the whole movie) several times before, but something – my frame of mind, the loving energy that filled our home this weekend, something – makes it affect me differently this time. I stand there watching the scene, feeling emotional and trying to fight it. I think that I’m keeping it low-key and don’t think my appearance is that noticeable.

Nigel looks at me and says, “Your face. It’s making some sort of expression.”

And then I about lose it. My breath catches in my throat, and I have to turn away as tears pool in my eyes. He noticed! He didn’t know what the expression was for, but he noticed a subtle facial cue! I dab my eyes and compose myself, then turn back to my son.

“Yes, Nigel, it’s an expression of emotion. I was just feeling how the father felt in the movie when he found his son and hugged him. He was happy, but all the anxiety that he felt while looking for him just built up in that moment and made him emotional. Does that make sense to you?”

“I think so.”

I tell him how great it is that he’s starting to notice the subtle expressions of emotion that people show, not just the more obvious ones of anger, sadness, happiness, or fear. Like talking, like writing, like learning to be polite, this is probably something that will take him a long time to develop. But the fledgling ability is there, and I am pleasantly surprised.

I am equally surprised that I got choked up over The Day After Tomorrow. Next thing you know, I’ll be crying at life insurance commercials. I may have a harder time explaining that!