Autism, Love & Loss of Pets
I knew I was in for a tear jerker when I opened up the latest issue of Psychology Today and found an excerpt from the new book 'Cowboy and Wills' An autistic boy's greatest love-and loss by Monica Holloway.Pets have been a constant part of my life with Maizie. Not every pet has been a match made in heaven but a few pets have managed to change Maizie's life for the better.
Monica Holloway writes, "When Wills was anxious or sad about something, he confided in Cowboy. Sometimes I'd hear him in his room or the backyard telling Cowboy all his troubles."
Pets are great for children and adults alike but I must agree that when a child with Autism has a special bond with a pet wonderful things happen.
Will's dog Cowboy helped him feel confident when he was around people. His sensory issues were often calmed with Cowboy's presence. My experience with Maizie and Darwin has been the same. Darwin is always there for Maizie and she has been there for him too.
Unfortunately, Cowboy developed Lupus at the young age of two. Will's and Cowboy's days together were cut short.
Holloway writes about talking to Will about Cowboy, "It feels horrible, unthinkable, that Cowboy will die, " I said. And then, using Katherine's words, I told him, "It might even feel like you can't live through it, but you will."
I have this feeling that Cowboy and Wills is more than a book about a boy with Autism and his dog. It truly is a love story.
Do you know that overwhelming gut wrenching emotion that is beyond words, the one where you truly believe you can not and will not survive the pain of it? The pain of a broken heart? Or is our heart breaking in order to fit in more love? Breaking to create more space within our hearts than we ever thought was possible?
We do survive that pain. It can make us better or worse. Ultimately, it is our choice.
Recently Chris's daughter Sally lost her pet snake Clay. Sally's pain and tears were intense when we told her Clay went to snake Heaven. She screamed out, "Noooooo! Why? Why?"
At first we tried to explain and explain and then we realized nothing we could say would stop her pain. Sally had to feel it.
Holloway said it well when comforting Will, "There was nothing I could say to make this any easier. I had run out of words."
I have worked years to get Maizie to communicate feelings to my liking. To carry herself in a way where she would be more likely to fit in. Yet, is she not more beautiful when she is comforting Darwin or a friend without words? We try to fill every moment with sound, with words and explanations. It is no wonder why children with Autism are so drawn to pets. Pets allow them to be exactly who they are.
I have a lot to learn from Darwin and the guinea pigs. Sometimes the best way to get into Maizie's world is to stop expecting her to be totally into mine. There is a beauty to running out of words. Now the difficult part is letting the words float away when I want so badly to speak them.
