Autism and Benjamin Nickell

Oh, how to describe my son, Benjamin Nickell?

Benjamin is a happy, silly, 10 year-old boy with a wonderful smile and smoky grey eyes. He is tall for his age and very athletically gifted. He’s in the 4 th grade and loves going to school – sometimes. He loves pizza, hates peas, and tends to be uncomfortable when people watch him eat. In short, he’s like a hundred other ordinary kids you probably know. Except, in many ways, Ben is not ordinary at all.

Ben has Autism, and while we try not to let that diagnosis define who he is, it can be difficult to see past the Autistic tendencies. He has massive headaches and other phantom pains that we cannot explain or understand. He likes to tap things with drinking straws, uncooked spaghetti, or the thousands of pens and pencils he’s swiped from my desk over the years. In fact, to Benjamin, our entire house is one giant drum set and he has a never-ending solo.

As a baby, Ben had language. He could count, say his ABC’s, and said a lot of other things, including the names of the rest of his family. Then, when he was just over a year old, he stopped talking. Completely. And he didn’t speak again until just about a year ago.

What happened a year ago? Well, that’s when Assistance Dogs of America, Inc. (ADAI) provided Ben with a highly trained Therapy Dog by the name of Betty. Betty quickly moved into our house and into our hearts. Ben was reluctant to bond with her at first, but Betty persisted in her efforts to become his friend and now they are virtually inseparable. She is Ben’s best friend and nearly constant companion. They play together. They share a bedroom and often a bed. They also, despite our best efforts, often share Ben’s meals.

Betty has had an amazing impact on Benjamin. She gives him unconditional love and never asks him to do more than he is capable of or willing to do. She doesn’t question him about what’s wrong when he cries. She simply loves him and does her best to make him happy and keep him safe.

For his part, Ben has started to speak a little bit. It doesn’t happen everyday, and his voice is not always terribly clear, but it’s a start. Sometimes we hear Mommy. Sometimes Daddy. Sometimes it’s his brothers’ names. More often than not, though, what we hear is “Betty!” or “Doggy!” And those words can simultaneously make us smile and bring tears to our eyes . . .

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Tribute to Ben Nickell and His Therapy Dog, Betty