Had to think about this chapter for a while to really make it something good. Sorry for the delay! The next one will be up soon. Please enjoy!
Roger sipped his cup of tea as he watched Jonah roll around on the floor with his favorite stuffed bunny, speaking in his own language and occasionally screaming about something. Jack sat across from his friend as he also observed the child's behavior. "Do you ever wonder what he thinks about?" the redhead asked aloud. Roger frowned. "I don't know that thoughts come in a pattern in his head. I think they just all jumble together." he answered. Jonah crawled over to the table where they sat and climbed up onto the chair. He babbled to himself as he neatly lined up all of the spoons, napkins, salt and pepper shakers, and unused teacups all in one straight line. Roger averted his eyes—he hated seeing those lines all around the house. It was the one thing that really set him off the most; they were like a constant reminder that his son wasn't like the other kids, that even though Roger saw him as perfect, he truly wasn't. Jonah seemed satisfied with his work, so he hopped down from his seat and ran screeching joyfully towards the living room.
Jack cracked a small smile. But Roger sighed as he moved all of the tableware to their respectful locations. "Drives me crazy," he mumbled under his breath. Jack looked up at him. "The lines do?"
"Yeah…they're always just sort of…everywhere. It bothers me. I don't know why."
"Will he ever just stop making them?"
"Don't think so,"
"Maybe he needs something to occupy his time."
"Like what?"
"…We just got our kids a dog."
Roger furrowed his brow. "Ohhhhhh no. I'm not bringing an animal into this house. I've got one already."
"It might be good for him, Roge. Maybe he'll like having something that will be loyal to him, something that's alive and isn't a stuffed doll. It might help him."
"If I let him get a dog, he will not walk it by himself, he will not feed it, he will not clean up after it. It's all my responsibility. All he'll do is—"
"Play with it."
"…Right."
"What's wrong with that?"
"What wrong with that? Jack, I've got a small child that acts like a three-year-old to clean up after and feed. I don't need a puppy to come in and double the mess. I've got enough on my plate."
"But he'll love that thing to death. And it'll love him back."
"I get a set amount of money each month from my ex-wife to help care for him. Granted, yes I do still have money coming in from good investments and the stock market. But why would I want to waste all that on an animal?"
"Sure the vet bills and stuff aren't fun, but would you rather put your money into getting that sofa cushion tailored, or a friend that would keep Jonah from destroying it further?"
"…The sofa cushion?"
Roger looked over and saw one of the pillows from the couch go sailing through the air from the living room and into the dining room, an airborne trail of fluff following close behind it. Jack leaned across the table and brushed his friend's knuckles understandingly. "He's getting older," he said softly. "He's going to want to see how stuff happens and he's going to get ideas in his head. Maybe getting him a…distraction, per se, will teach him that he can be gentle and affectionate towards things." Roger let out a big sigh as he stared into his cup of tea. It took a long time before he actually spoke. "I can't believe that my twenty-nine-year-old friend is trying to convince me to get a puppy before my eight-year-old son is." he breathed. Jack grinned. "Oh come on. You're only twenty-eight. And don't you remember when they'd bring those service dogs to the…institution? I remember a very excited little boy who counted down the days until he'd get to see them again. Just for fifteen minutes. Imagine what Jonah would do if he got to keep one all to himself…"
"…I can't be sure…."
"So when are you going to the shelter?"
"Tomorrow morning."
"Exactly."
Despite the straight face Roger was trying to keep, he couldn't help but crack a small chuckle at Jack's satisfied expression. It was true—Roger had grown up in the asylum telling Jack every weekly visit that he wanted a puppy when he had a house all on his own. But was now a good time? As much as he wanted to convince himself that they would only go to the shelter to look, he knew he was going to walk out with a puppy on a leash and a proud little son. Maybe that was what was important.
So the next morning, Roger found himself getting dressed rather quickly subconsciously and hurrying Jonah along in the morning process. "Dada," the small boy asked in the car. "Where we go so fast? Group?"
"No, we're not going to group." Roger replied, suppressing an excited smile. Why was he getting so happy about this? He told himself he wouldn't.
"Surprise?"
"It might be. I don't think you'll ever guess where we're headed…and what I'm getting myself into."
"…Rhaknej?"
"Words, please."
"Ice cream?"
"…No, not ice cream. Even…even better."
When Roger pulled up to the animal shelter, Jonah was still confused about where they were. He couldn't read that well. So he took him out of the car, walked him inside, and met with a woman behind a desk. "May I help you two today or are you just looking?" she asked cheerfully. Roger sighed. "Unfortunately…we're looking for a pet." He really didn't mean it—he just had to keep telling himself that so that he wouldn't get overexcited and control Jonah's selection. The woman laughed. "You can head back to see all the animals, and when you're ready to meet with one specifically please feel free to ask one of our associates." she informed. Roger tugged Jonah's hand to get him to walk back into the room of unclaimed pets.
As soon as they entered, Jonah gasped. "Nanamals!" he cried out gleefully. "Zoo!" Roger smiled and knelt to his level. "Well, it's not a zoo, Jonah. Today you get to pick one to take home with you—whether it's a cat, a rabbit, a…dog…you can have it. It's going to be your best friend, alright? Do you like that?" he explained. Jonah shrieked with joy, bouncing up and down and clapping his hands. "Thanks Dada! Thanks Dada!" he shouted. They circled every tank, every box, every cage. "Tootle," the boy identified as he pointed at some turtles. "Baba," was the name of the bunnies. After walking around all the animals and inspecting them carefully for over an hour, a woman approached them. "Can I help you find something?" she asked. Roger stood up to greet her. "We're just looking around. I told him he could get any pet he wants, and he's particularly choosy with everything." he replied.
"Has he seen our puppies?"
"Yes, and that seems to be one of the finalists. The puppies and the turtles."
"Tootle." Jonah babbled upon hearing the word he recognized.
"Please…please forgive me for asking this, sir…but…is the child…er…special needs?" the woman asked, reddening in embarrassment at such a forward question.
"He has autism," Roger answered. He wasn't really affected by her asking, he just wondered what that had to do with Jonah's selection of an animal.
"We have some very special friends for very special people. I don't know if you're interested, but we raise and train service dogs here—they tend to help a lot of people who are disabled and they are extremely obedient. Perhaps you'd like to take a look?"
"I'd say I'm interested. But can I ask a question? How would a service dog help a child with autism? Jonah can do things on his own—he just needs a friend, is all."
"That's exactly what they love to be. We've seen some autistic children, teens, and adults looking for a friend in an animal, and these dogs are specifically trained to handle the people and help them. For instance, if your son—Jonah was his name?—stands up too fast and begins to fall back unsteadily, the dog will know the signs and will actually use itself to break the fall. Also, if Jonah needs to reach something, the dog will get it. Most importantly, if Jonah's scared and hugs the dog really tight, it won't snap or become spooked—in fact, it'll return the affection. The service dogs really read humans. They know us better than we know ourselves sometimes."
Roger followed the woman to a separate room, where all kinds of dogs wearing special jackets were being trained and practicing with their trainers. He knelt beside his son. "Do you want to get a puppy?" he asked. Jonah nodded exceptionally excitedly, wringing his hands in earnest. "Puppy! Puppy! Puppy!" he shouted. The woman smiled. "We do have some service dogs that are older, but if he wants a puppy, we have some trained ones already. That way he and the dog will grow up together. It creates a more natural bond." she explained. Jonah followed her to a pen of small little yellow Labradors. "Puppies is cute!" he gleefully told his father. One trotted right up to him and raised up on his hind legs. The dog put his front paws on Jonah's shoulders, and standing up his face met with the boy's. Roger was sure that would do him in for the puppies—one little thing like that and Jonah was frightened instantly. But this time, the tiny boy giggled. "Doggy like Jo-Jo!" he exclaimed. He threw his arms around the dog with enough force to make Roger cringe a bit. But the dog rested its head on Jonah's shoulder. "Jo-Jo like doggy back." the boy murmured.
The spent another hour with that same dog and a trainer to be sure it and Jonah were a perfect match for one another. Roger shook his head as he signed the papers to adopt the dog, mentally cursing Jack Merridew for even putting this idea in his head. Sure, a service dog was trained to be good—this one even knew to ring a bell on the door when it had to go to the bathroom. But what if Jonah grew tired of it? His doubts were answered as he paid for the little puppy and a tug pulled his sleeve. Jonah looked up at him innocently. "Doggy want toys," he said clearly. Roger sighed. "How do you know? We just got him a ball when I paid for him. He'll be happy with that for now."
"He tell me."
"He told you he wants toys?"
"Yes."
"What did he say he wanted?"
Jonah pointed back at a wall of pet supplies, straight at a whole bunch of dog interaction-stimulators. "He want those."
"We can't get him all the toys. I'll tell you what—you go with him to pick out three toys, bring them back here, and I'll pay for them. Alright?"
"Yes, Dada."
Jonah skipped off with the dog's leash in hand and knelt in front of all the dog toys. He showed each one to Doggy (which was apparently the name that stuck) carefully and deliberately. The dog sat beside him, alertly listening to his new master's voice and watching his every move. Maybe this wasn't a bad choice…
Jonah returned with a plastic red bone, a soft stuffed squeaky raccoon, and a ring made of rawhide. "Doggy pick," he said proudly, setting the items on the counter. The cashier grinned at him. She let Roger hold the bag and Jonah walked Doggy outside the shelter and to the car. When he was getting buckled into his carseat, he cried out, "Dada! Doggy sit with Jo-Jo!"
"Maybe Doggy should sit in the front seat at first, Jonah. Just so he stays safe." Roger tried to reason. He didn't want the dog to get frustrated with his son right away.
"Doggy love Jo-Jo."
Again, Roger found himself cursing the name of Merridew for getting Jonah attached to the dog so fast, as he'd predicted. "Alright, fine. As long as he sits on the seat next to you." he reasoned. But Jonah was perfectly content. And apparently Doggy was too, because he liked the boy's cheeks once he settled in the back. Service dogs weren't supposed to get tired of their owners. Grinning, Roger figured both animal and boy loved each other so much already that it would be hard to separate them. It was a good feeling. The dog was very good when being introduced to his new home. The plan was to let him sleep in the nursery with Jonah so that the boy would (possibly) stop crying in the night for attention. Roger created a bed out of blankets for Doggy, and he seemed to be quite fond of it. For the rest of the day, Jonah played and played and played with the animal. They tumbled together, they rolled, they fetched, they snuggled, and eventually they fell asleep together on the sofa just before dinner. Roger called up Jack as he sat at the table, watching his two family members sleep. "Hey, Jack." he greeted after the redhead answered.
"So…how's the new child?"
"Child? This things acts like an adult! It's so good with Jonah. I was afraid at first, but they have so much fun and the dog is very well-trained."
"What'd you name him?"
"Jonah named him 'Doggy'. It stuck."
"Will you say it?"
"Aw, come on, Jack. I already admitted it was a good thing. Isn't that enough?"
"Say it…."
"Alright, alright. You were right, Jack Merridew. Getting a dog was a good idea for Jonah, and it's not as troublesome for me. You were right."
"…I know."
Roger grinned when he heard his friend laughing on the other end of the phone. No, it wasn't a bad thing to get a dog for Jonah. And a service dog was a perfect fit for both of them. Doggy stretched in his dream, momentarily waking just to give the sleeping Jonah a kiss and a nuzzle with his nose. Yes, this was a good idea after all.
