On a recent afternoon, two long rows of students at Monroe Middle School fidgeted as their gym teacher shouted out instructions on how to dance the Electric Slide.
"When you leave this class, you're going to want to do it every day. It's that addicting," she told them brightly.
"Wow!" exclaimed one kid, genuinely impressed. Other students goofed the steps for their friends' amusement or shuffled nonchalantly, hands jammed in jean or hoodie pockets.
Griffin Jacobson, 13, twirled awkwardly with adaptive physical education teacher Robyn Jubeck.
Learning the Electric Slide in gym class is strange and exciting and embarrassing for any seventh-grader. It was a real physical challenge for Griffin, who is diagnosed with autism. He has gentle eyes and is quick to smile, but coordinating himself physically was clearly frustrating him. He quit halfway through the class.
Griffin had a buddy looking out for him that day, besides Jubeck and her cheerful guidance. His service dog Gus, a 2 1/2-year-old black Labrador, was lying patiently at the back of the gym with his head on his paws and his eyes on Griffin.
Together, Griffin and Gus are known around school as "The G Team." Gus arrived on Nov. 9 from Lake Oswego, Ore., where he was trained by the nonprofit organization Autism Service Dogs of America to calm autistic people like Griffin and help them navigate everyday life. The dog wears a pack (a signal that he's working and shouldn't be distracted) and is attached to Griffin on a leash. He accompanies the boy to school, on family outings and at home.
"The dog senses when Griffin is feeling anxious," said Dave Bristow, Griffin's teacher. If Griffin needs reassurance, "he just reaches down and pets Gus."
Brenda Miller has worked with Griffin as his aide for two years and says he's already more even-keeled with the dog at his side.
"His behavior is just awesome," she said. Other kids used to avoid Griffin; now they greet him and ask about Gus. "It gives him more socialization. Before that didn't happen."
Griffin was only 2 1/2 when a doctor told Katie and Scott Jacobson their son was autistic. They walked out of the clinic in a daze, bewildered by the doctor's diagnosis. "Now what?" Katie Jacobson remembers asking. "He didn't tell us what to do."
Sadly, there are no clear steps in autism treatment. There is no medical detection or cure for the developmental disorder, and every autistic person displays and handles symptoms differently. People with autism have trouble reading social cues and relating to others, regulating emotions and communicating. According to the Centers for Disease Control, autism affects one in 110 children and one in 70 boys.
For the Jacobsons, for years, having a child with autism meant going out for dinner at 4:45 p.m. It meant dreading any public situation where crowds or long lines could anger or overwhelm Griffin and trigger a bad reaction. A simple trip to Sears to return a belt could turn into a drawn-out ordeal if he had a meltdown.
When Griffin did act out in public, particularly in Madison where he isn't surrounded by a community that recognizes and supports him, the dirty looks some people shot Katie Jacobson hurt and humiliated her. Now, with Gus nearby, she said strangers are more sympathetic and understand the situation better.
During a recent trip to the mall with Gus, Griffin threw a tantrum that a typical 4-year-old might have.
"Griffin threw himself on the floor," said Jacobson. "This woman walked past and smiled at us. Then somebody else did. (The dog) is sort of our little flag. People are more accepting of bad behavior."
At school, she added, Griffin has transformed from the weird kid who flaps his arms to the cool kid with a dog.
Griffin's friend Allyce Fahrney, also 13 and in seventh grade, said no one at school has ever picked on Griffin, but some kids stayed away from him because they didn't know how to interact with someone with autism. Gus helps put everyone at ease.
"Now they're comfortable with him," she said. "He's always seemed happy, but he seems so much happier with the dog."
When she was in fifth grade, Allyce entered an essay called "My Friend With Autism" to an Autism Society of Wisconsin contest. In it she wrote, "Having Griffin as my friend, I have found a new way to live life. He has shown me so many things that are more important than what others think of you and just to throw back your head and laugh."
The process of getting a service dog for Griffin took years and cost almost $20,000, none of it covered by health insurance. Gus was a puppy when Jacobson first read about Autism Service Dogs of America (ASDA) in a Good Housekeeping article. It made sense, she said: Griffin likes animals, and pets have been proven to lower anxiety and blood pressure.
Getting together money for the dog was a feat of grassroots community fundraising. The Jacobsons held a garage sale and a brat sale and rented the Monroe city pool for a party. Burreson's Foods in Belleville held a donation campaign at check-out. Local organizations pledged money. Thrivent Financial for Lutherans matched several fundraisers. Griffin's 14-year-old sister Delaney raised almost $500 selling homemade dog treats and greeting cards. The secretaries at Scott Jacobson's office, the Kittelsen Law Firm, threw "the mother of all bake sales," Katie Jacobson said.
That all happened in the summer of 2010. Once the Jacobsons had the money, they underwent a lengthy and involved application to ASDA, including a video of Griffin so the organization could assess his needs. Then they waited.
Finally, a dog became available. In October, Katie Jacobson flew out to Oregon for a training with Gus. In November, the executive director of ASDA, Kati Rule-Witko, spent nine days in Monroe to introduce the dog and work with the family and school on integrating him into their daily routines.
Gus is the 40th autism service dog Rule-Witko has placed, she said. Rule-Witko typically places eight to nine dogs per year, each time working one-on-one with the family.
ASDA dogs undergo intensive training, including role-playing in which they learn to go to people who are shouting, waving their arms, throwing toys, knocking down chairs and mimicking other common autistic behavior. To stop the agitation, the dog is trained to press its body against the person or climb up on his or her lap. Many autistic people can't endure human touch but are able to accept the animal's reassuring nudges.
Besides their formal training, the dogs are raised in various homes, often with a teenager, so they can get accustomed to family life and be as adaptable as possible. The puppy raisers expose the dogs to as many situations as possible, from public transportation to elementary schools to big-arena sporting events.
Always, the dogs must remain the calm one in the midst of difficult and often chaotic situations.
"I think everyone can learn a lesson from these dogs," said Rule-Witko, who is a certified dog trainer and featured in the book "Every Dog Has a Gift."
Working so closely with a family, she said she quickly becomes attached to them and the biggest challenge of her job is leaving each family and town she visits. She still thinks about how Griffin "lit up" the first time he encountered Gus.
"Griffin went right over to Gus. I'll never forget his big red cheeks and big smiles," she said. "Gus of course was excited and licked his face. Griffin giggled. I'll never forget his giggle."
Gus' life isn't all consumed by service-dog work. At home, his pack comes off and he can play with the Jacobsons' other dog, a Rhodesian Ridgeback named Colby Jack. He even has his own Facebook page, with 372 fans and counting (search on Facebook for "Gus: Autism Service Dog in Training").
Inspired by Gus' presence at home, Delaney, Griffin's sister, is planning to be a puppy-raiser for ASDA next year or the year after. It's a 12- to 15-month commitment, and involves taking the dog absolutely everywhere with her.
Just like her little brother does now with Gus.
"When you leave this class, you're going to want to do it every day. It's that addicting," she told them brightly.
"Wow!" exclaimed one kid, genuinely impressed. Other students goofed the steps for their friends' amusement or shuffled nonchalantly, hands jammed in jean or hoodie pockets.
Griffin Jacobson, 13, twirled awkwardly with adaptive physical education teacher Robyn Jubeck.
Learning the Electric Slide in gym class is strange and exciting and embarrassing for any seventh-grader. It was a real physical challenge for Griffin, who is diagnosed with autism. He has gentle eyes and is quick to smile, but coordinating himself physically was clearly frustrating him. He quit halfway through the class.
Griffin had a buddy looking out for him that day, besides Jubeck and her cheerful guidance. His service dog Gus, a 2 1/2-year-old black Labrador, was lying patiently at the back of the gym with his head on his paws and his eyes on Griffin.
Together, Griffin and Gus are known around school as "The G Team." Gus arrived on Nov. 9 from Lake Oswego, Ore., where he was trained by the nonprofit organization Autism Service Dogs of America to calm autistic people like Griffin and help them navigate everyday life. The dog wears a pack (a signal that he's working and shouldn't be distracted) and is attached to Griffin on a leash. He accompanies the boy to school, on family outings and at home.
"The dog senses when Griffin is feeling anxious," said Dave Bristow, Griffin's teacher. If Griffin needs reassurance, "he just reaches down and pets Gus."
Brenda Miller has worked with Griffin as his aide for two years and says he's already more even-keeled with the dog at his side.
"His behavior is just awesome," she said. Other kids used to avoid Griffin; now they greet him and ask about Gus. "It gives him more socialization. Before that didn't happen."
Griffin was only 2 1/2 when a doctor told Katie and Scott Jacobson their son was autistic. They walked out of the clinic in a daze, bewildered by the doctor's diagnosis. "Now what?" Katie Jacobson remembers asking. "He didn't tell us what to do."
Sadly, there are no clear steps in autism treatment. There is no medical detection or cure for the developmental disorder, and every autistic person displays and handles symptoms differently. People with autism have trouble reading social cues and relating to others, regulating emotions and communicating. According to the Centers for Disease Control, autism affects one in 110 children and one in 70 boys.
For the Jacobsons, for years, having a child with autism meant going out for dinner at 4:45 p.m. It meant dreading any public situation where crowds or long lines could anger or overwhelm Griffin and trigger a bad reaction. A simple trip to Sears to return a belt could turn into a drawn-out ordeal if he had a meltdown.
When Griffin did act out in public, particularly in Madison where he isn't surrounded by a community that recognizes and supports him, the dirty looks some people shot Katie Jacobson hurt and humiliated her. Now, with Gus nearby, she said strangers are more sympathetic and understand the situation better.
During a recent trip to the mall with Gus, Griffin threw a tantrum that a typical 4-year-old might have.
"Griffin threw himself on the floor," said Jacobson. "This woman walked past and smiled at us. Then somebody else did. (The dog) is sort of our little flag. People are more accepting of bad behavior."
At school, she added, Griffin has transformed from the weird kid who flaps his arms to the cool kid with a dog.
Griffin's friend Allyce Fahrney, also 13 and in seventh grade, said no one at school has ever picked on Griffin, but some kids stayed away from him because they didn't know how to interact with someone with autism. Gus helps put everyone at ease.
"Now they're comfortable with him," she said. "He's always seemed happy, but he seems so much happier with the dog."
When she was in fifth grade, Allyce entered an essay called "My Friend With Autism" to an Autism Society of Wisconsin contest. In it she wrote, "Having Griffin as my friend, I have found a new way to live life. He has shown me so many things that are more important than what others think of you and just to throw back your head and laugh."
The process of getting a service dog for Griffin took years and cost almost $20,000, none of it covered by health insurance. Gus was a puppy when Jacobson first read about Autism Service Dogs of America (ASDA) in a Good Housekeeping article. It made sense, she said: Griffin likes animals, and pets have been proven to lower anxiety and blood pressure.
Getting together money for the dog was a feat of grassroots community fundraising. The Jacobsons held a garage sale and a brat sale and rented the Monroe city pool for a party. Burreson's Foods in Belleville held a donation campaign at check-out. Local organizations pledged money. Thrivent Financial for Lutherans matched several fundraisers. Griffin's 14-year-old sister Delaney raised almost $500 selling homemade dog treats and greeting cards. The secretaries at Scott Jacobson's office, the Kittelsen Law Firm, threw "the mother of all bake sales," Katie Jacobson said.
That all happened in the summer of 2010. Once the Jacobsons had the money, they underwent a lengthy and involved application to ASDA, including a video of Griffin so the organization could assess his needs. Then they waited.
Finally, a dog became available. In October, Katie Jacobson flew out to Oregon for a training with Gus. In November, the executive director of ASDA, Kati Rule-Witko, spent nine days in Monroe to introduce the dog and work with the family and school on integrating him into their daily routines.
Gus is the 40th autism service dog Rule-Witko has placed, she said. Rule-Witko typically places eight to nine dogs per year, each time working one-on-one with the family.
ASDA dogs undergo intensive training, including role-playing in which they learn to go to people who are shouting, waving their arms, throwing toys, knocking down chairs and mimicking other common autistic behavior. To stop the agitation, the dog is trained to press its body against the person or climb up on his or her lap. Many autistic people can't endure human touch but are able to accept the animal's reassuring nudges.
Besides their formal training, the dogs are raised in various homes, often with a teenager, so they can get accustomed to family life and be as adaptable as possible. The puppy raisers expose the dogs to as many situations as possible, from public transportation to elementary schools to big-arena sporting events.
Always, the dogs must remain the calm one in the midst of difficult and often chaotic situations.
"I think everyone can learn a lesson from these dogs," said Rule-Witko, who is a certified dog trainer and featured in the book "Every Dog Has a Gift."
Working so closely with a family, she said she quickly becomes attached to them and the biggest challenge of her job is leaving each family and town she visits. She still thinks about how Griffin "lit up" the first time he encountered Gus.
"Griffin went right over to Gus. I'll never forget his big red cheeks and big smiles," she said. "Gus of course was excited and licked his face. Griffin giggled. I'll never forget his giggle."
Gus' life isn't all consumed by service-dog work. At home, his pack comes off and he can play with the Jacobsons' other dog, a Rhodesian Ridgeback named Colby Jack. He even has his own Facebook page, with 372 fans and counting (search on Facebook for "Gus: Autism Service Dog in Training").
Inspired by Gus' presence at home, Delaney, Griffin's sister, is planning to be a puppy-raiser for ASDA next year or the year after. It's a 12- to 15-month commitment, and involves taking the dog absolutely everywhere with her.
Just like her little brother does now with Gus.