Autism Service Dogs

One of the hardest things about training my own service dog is that there are times when I'm simply not functional. This can lead to some unfortunate side effects.

Historically, Glindy has always been very fond of sitting outside on the back porch. Even on cold winter mornings, she used to love going out there and sitting, her nose turned up and working hard at taking in all the outdoor scents. That's all past now, though.

These days, Glindy simply will not go outside unless I go with her. She won't step outside to eat or eliminate unless I'm out there to keep her company, even though my two other dogs still love spending short periods of time in the very same yard.

There are probably two reasons for this. Firstly, I think Glindy has bonded more closely with me over the past year. Between long business trips where we're together 24/7, and the long periods when I'm between contracts and spending time with her at home, I think Glindy has become more attached to me than ever.

Secondly, this was not a good summer for me. I was frequently depressed, and as a result I wouldn't always hear Glindy barking to come inside. Sometimes, she would end up outside for half a day because I'd lost track of time, fallen asleep, or simply become too tuned-out to hear her.

For the other dogs, this wasn't as traumatic, even though they experienced the exact same thing. However, for a dog like Glindy who is not only deeply attached, but also has a history of severe separation anxiety, I think this was just too much for her to handle.

It's my educated guess that she's learned to associate being outside with being isolated from me, and she is no longer willing to do that even for a quick potty break. So now, if I don't want her eliminating in the house or skipping meals, I have to go out with her. Since she will usually take care of business promptly while I'm there—something that wasn't always true in the past—this isn't a Greek tragedy. It does, however, highlight some of the things that can go awry when human depression and canine separation anxiety collide.

The greater point, I suppose, is that people (disabled or not) can certainly mess up their dogs unintentionally. But then again, dogs are resilient creatures, and if we're willing to accept them for who and what they are, the damage isn't insurmountable.

Glindy, who has always been too smart for her own good, has learned the wrong lesson too well. As a result, I need to make changes in my own behavior. Whether or not Glindy will ever again be comfortable going outside without me isn't what matters. What matters is that we continue to build our bond together, and work through things as a team.

My dog is willing to spend her days working beside me, accommodating my disabilities and personality quirks, and helping me to live with them more easily. The least I can do is treat her separation anxiety the same way, and extend her the same unconditional love she affords me. After all, isn't that what being partners is all about?