Dogs. That was the smell permeating the classroom at the 4 Paws for Ability service-dog facility. I took a deep breath, wanting to take it all in.<\/p>\n
We\u2019d driven 500 miles from our suburban Atlanta home to this former VFW hall in Ohio to pick up the dog the trainers here had spent the better part of a year readying for us. More specifically, for my 10-year-old adopted son, Iyal, who has fetal alcohol syndrome (FAS), leaving him with a constellation of developmental disabilities.<\/p>\n
My husband, Harvey, and I loved Iyal as if he were our own flesh and blood. Possibly more. Yet that love seemed powerless to stem his extreme impulsivity, his lack of a sense of consequences, his irrational thinking and explosive rages.<\/p>\n
He was besieged with night terrors. He couldn\u2019t communicate beyond the level of a preschooler or explain what he was feeling, his grammar rudimentary at best. He struggled to connect with others, even those who loved him.<\/p>\n
Yet I saw how desperately he wanted friends. I ached for him. I\u2019d tried everything to reach Iyal, offer him some understanding of the world outside himself. Daily, the strain tore at our family, unraveling the safety net we tried to weave around him.<\/p>\n
This was my last resort. I drew the doggy odor into my lungs. Hope, <\/em>I tried to tell myself, it smells like hope.<\/em><\/p>\n I crouched by our dog\u2019s crate, flanked by Iyal and my daughter, Morasha, two days younger, both adopted from Russia when they were 14 months old. An enormous golden retriever peered out at us, with an expectant smile.<\/p>\n \u201cHey, Chancer,\u201d I whispered. He looked happy, friendly, eager to please. But could even the most perceptive dog understand Iyal\u2019s anguish? What if Iyal hit Chancer when he was upset? Even for 4 Paws this was new territory, Iyal their first client living with fetal alcohol syndrome.<\/p>\n \u201cOkay, let\u2019s meet your dogs,\u201d the head trainer, Jeremy Dulebohn, announced to the class, all families whose children had special needs. We\u2019d come for 10 days of training, required before we could take our dogs home.<\/p>\n I slipped the crate latch. Chancer bounded out, tail wagging exuberantly. Morasha got down on his level. \u201cHe\u2019s beautiful,\u201d she said. I stroked his head and he licked my hand. \u201cGood boy,\u201d I offered. Iyal patted Chancer\u2019s side, then wandered out of the classroom.<\/p>\n \u201cIyal! Come back,\u201d I called. He didn\u2019t even turn his head.<\/p>\n \u201cI\u2019ll get him,\u201d my dad said. \u201cFocus on Chancer.\u201d 4 Paws required two adults to attend the training, and I needed someone to help watch Iyal. My dad and cousin had flown in.<\/p>\n Harvey wanted to come, but as the founding rabbi of a smaller synagogue, he felt his extended absence would be a hardship on the staff.<\/p>\n \u201cDogs don\u2019t judge,\u201d Jeremy said. \u201cThey don\u2019t see a person with disabilities. They see someone who can give them love. They think, \u2018What can I do to get a treat?\u2019 Right now it seems overwhelming, but once you learn the basic commands, you\u2019ll be able to relax and let your dogs do the work. Remember, we\u2019ve done ninety percent of the training for you.\u201d<\/p>\n Since receiving Iyal\u2019s FAS diagnosis in 2002, I\u2019d tried various therapies and medications for him, structured his days, changed his diet and reframed my thinking. After five years of little progress I wasn\u2019t looking for miracles anymore. A good night\u2019s sleep would be a gift.<\/p>\n But for Chancer to bond with Iyal, to think of him as his <\/em>boy, wouldn\u2019t they actually have to spend time together? \u201cStand in front of your dogs,\u201d Jeremy instructed. \u201cUsing their name, tell them to sit.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cSit, Chancer,\u201d I said. He settled on his haunches inside a circle on the floor, eagerly watching my hand. \u201cGood dog!\u201d I held out a treat. Chancer inhaled it.<\/p>\n \u201cLet\u2019s do it again,\u201d Jeremy said. \u201cDogs respond to one of three things\u2014food, toys or praise. They learn through repetition and positive reinforcement.\u201d<\/p>\n Chancer liked food. That was clear. And repetition? I knew what that meant, all too well. Iyal had trouble remembering instructions from one day to the next. Don\u2019t squeeze the cat. Don\u2019t go out of the house. Don\u2019t crowd your sister.<\/p>\n No matter how I repeated myself, I couldn\u2019t seem to make the world understandable to him or convey that there were basic rules. In truth, it was equally hard for us to understand what was swirling through his <\/em>mind. The slightest change in routine or simply telling him no could spark an uncontrollable outburst.<\/p>\n Yet Harvey and I were certain Iyal and Morasha were meant to be in our lives. We\u2019d struggled with infertility and were in our forties when we saw them on a referral video from a Russian orphanage. It was divinely ordained destiny. Beshert, <\/em>in Hebrew. God\u2019s will.<\/p>\n Our first two years as a family were a time of joy. Then shortly after the kids\u2019 third birthday we noticed disturbing changes in Iyal. He couldn\u2019t fall asleep or stay asleep. He became agitated at the smallest things. He threw a chair at a classmate in preschool.<\/p>\n \u201cIt\u2019s just a stage,\u201d friends at temple said. But we knew something was very wrong.<\/p>\n Pediatricians and child psychiatrists couldn\u2019t agree on a diagnosis. Finally a developmental pediatrician noted Iyal\u2019s small head, the thin upper lip and lack of crease between his mouth and nose, the wider space between his eyes.<\/p>\n \u201cYour son has fetal alcohol syndrome, the most severe expression of fetal alcohol spectrum disorders,\u201d he told us. \u201cWhen a mother drinks during pregnancy it can cause irreversible developmental and neurological damage. While largely invisible to others, the behavioral effects will become more challenging as he gets older. This is a lifelong birth defect.\u201d<\/p>\n It\u2019s common for kids from overseas orphanages to have developmental issues, but irreversible brain damage? I was devastated, engulfed by grief.<\/p>\n Spurred on by my maternal instinct and a need to do something, I devoted myself to Iyal\u2019s care, shedding activities from my former life. I consumed research on FAS D, spent hours online with other moms whose kids had experienced prenatal alcohol exposure.<\/p>\n People began coming to me for advice. I founded the Georgia state affiliate of the National Organization on Fetal Alcohol Syndrome. Advocacy became my full-time job.<\/p>\n But what about the answers I <\/em>needed? As Iyal reached school age, his tantrums morphed into limbic rages. He\u2019d pull away from me and run into the street in front of cars, unaware of danger. Sometimes nights were worse than the days.<\/p>\n \u201cDonnie, how can we go on like this?\u201d Harvey said early one morning after we\u2019d gotten Iyal back to bed. \u201cIt\u2019s not fair to Morasha. Iyal\u2019s disabilities have taken over our lives. We need help, maybe a special-needs nanny? Something.\u201d<\/p>\n God, why can\u2019t I give my son what he needs? <\/em>I asked, not for the first time. I felt like I\u2019d failed Iyal, failed God. After all, hadn\u2019t God given me Iyal to raise and love?<\/p>\n Then I stumbled across the website for 4 Paws. They trained service dogs for kids in wheelchairs, with seizure disorders, with psychiatric illness, with autism. Each dog was trained to match a specific child. I couldn\u2019t wait to tell Harvey.<\/p>\n \u201cAre you sure?\u201d he said. \u201cLike we need more responsibility. People don\u2019t mean much to Iyal. Why would a dog?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cBut they each get five hundred hours of training.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cNo,\u201d he said. \u201cPlease, Donnie. No dog.\u201d I knew we were both at the breaking point. Still, if I could just get a little more information…<\/p>\n I called Karen Shirk, the director of 4 Paws. She had her own concerns. \u201cIs your son likely to scream at a dog?\u201d she asked. \u201cWould he ever hit a dog?\u201d<\/p>\n I swallowed. \u201cHe might.\u201d<\/p>\n Silence. I braced myself.<\/p>\n \u201cOkay,\u201d Karen said. \u201cYou must have a doctor\u2019s prescription and we\u2019ll need you to make a video. We want to see Iyal from morning till night, every noise he makes, all of his disruptive behaviors, every tantrum. But I have to warn you, this is a major commitment and one out of ten dogs that we place doesn\u2019t work out.\u201d<\/p>\n Now, in this VFW hall in Ohio, that conversation seemed like a dream. Except here I was looking into the eyes of a very real golden. I glanced at the other families in the class, the kids bonding with their dogs. One in ten. What if we were the family that didn\u2019t work out?<\/p>\n We practiced sit, then stay. Iyal came and plopped himself in the middle of Chancer\u2019s circle. He wouldn\u2019t budge. The class came to a halt. \u201cI\u2019m so sorry,\u201d I gasped. \u201cIyal, get up!\u201d I implored as loud as I dared, afraid of a meltdown.<\/p>\n Jeremy had taught Chancer three special skills: nuzzling against Iyal at the first sign of agitation; if Iyal was on the floor, climbing on top of Iyal\u2019s legs and lying down (the pressure calming him); and tethering.<\/p>\n This required Iyal and Chancer to wear special vests tethering them to each other. On command Chancer would drop to the ground, keeping Iyal from running off.<\/p>\n Now Chancer looked on, head cocked in bewilderment. \u201cIt\u2019s okay,\u201d Jeremy said. \u201cWe\u2019ll wait.\u201d Finally Iyal moved. But by then I could feel the glow of hope inside me fading.<\/p>\n The next day Chancer sat, lay down and stayed like a pro, but there was no sign of any connection with Iyal. When it came time to practice tethering, Morasha stood in for Iyal. Does Chancer even know Iyal exists? <\/em>I wondered. And vice versa?<\/em><\/p>\n That evening we took our dogs back to the hotel for the night. I put Chancer\u2019s crate at the end of Iyal\u2019s bed, exhausted. My cousin took Chancer for a walk. \u201cWhy don\u2019t the kids and I go down to the hot tub?\u201d my dad offered. I was glad for the chance to be alone.<\/p>\n All too soon there was the sound of the door swinging open, the kids, my cousin and Dad bursting into the room, Chancer leading the way, dripping. My nose wrinkled at the odor of wet dog.<\/p>\n \u201cYou\u2019ll never guess what happened!\u201d Dad said. \u201cThe kids were in the hot tub. When Chancer came back from his walk he looked right at Iyal, alerted and…\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cHe jerked the leash right out of my hand,\u201d my cousin interjected excitedly. \u201cThe next thing I knew he was in the hot tub trying to save Iyal. And Iyal…I\u2019ve never heard him laugh like that.\u201d<\/p>\n