I needed a puppy like I needed a hole in my head.
And yet… here we are.
Her name is Rosie. She is an 8-week-old dachshund with opinions, zero respect for crates, and an emotional support requirement that far exceeds her body length.
Was this a logical decision?
No.
Was autism consulted?
Absolutely not.
But this puppy?
This was for me.
Crate Training: A Brief and Hopeful Era
I had a plan.
Crate training. Night routines. Structure.
That plan lasted about six minutes before Rosie screamed like she had been abandoned in the wilderness (she was three feet away). Luke lay still in his bed, staring at the ceiling like, This is why I don’t do chaos.
So Rosie now sleeps wherever she feels emotionally supported at the moment. Autism does not negotiate with whining. And frankly, neither do I at 2 a.m.
Luke: Mildly Amused. Mostly Unbothered.
Rosie is obsessed with Luke.
She follows him. Sits on his feet. Offers toys directly to his ankles like a tiny salesperson.
Luke tolerates her.
That’s it.
He doesn’t pet her. He doesn’t chase her. He doesn’t engage. He simply steps around her like a very calm, immovable object. But he also doesn’t push her away.
In Luke’s world, that’s trust.
Ella: Full Heart, Clean Hands
Ella adores Rosie.
She watches her play like it’s a nature documentary. She narrates her zoomies. She laughs at her floppy ears.
But poop?
Hard pass.
Ella will lovingly announce,
“Mom, Rosie went potty.”
And then exit the scene.
Because love has boundaries.
The Part Where I Admit This Puppy Wasn’t for Them
Let’s be honest: autism makes change hard. Noise hard. New routines exhausting.
Adding a puppy to this mix makes very little sense.
But joy had gotten quiet here.
And I needed something that was mine. Something alive and ridiculous and demanding in a way that didn’t involve IEPs or Medicaid waivers or worrying about the future at 3 a.m.
Rosie didn’t fix anything.
She reminded me that laughter can come back without permission. That love doesn’t have to be efficient. That sometimes you choose joy even when it makes zero sense on paper.
I didn’t need a puppy.
I needed a reminder that I’m allowed to do something just because it brings me joy.
Even if it comes with poop.
