Autism Dogs – Delivery!
Posted on July 12, 2025
After my last visit to the Autism Dogs farm in mid February – my anxiety had prevented me from being able to do Daisy’s public access and family training and they accommodated me wonderfully with a new co-created plan that we hoped would work better – it was about three weeks before Daisy was delivered. One of the trainers brought her down and stayed for two days – this is called Delivery and is usually the last part of the process but isn’t for me due to the accommodations they’ve made for me around the public access and family training – while we all got settled and guided us through the basics of having an Autism Dog in your home: we already have a dog and have had a Labrador specifically in the past but, having spent a long time at the farm and being trained by the Autism Dog trainers, it wasn’t the same as bringing a new, young dog into your home. There are habits that we’re going to have to work on, some we need to encourage and some we need to discourage. But I’m getting ahead of myself…
NIGHT BEFORE
I was incredibly nervous about Daisy arriving; I was trying my best not to spiral into a full blown panic but it was a struggle. A big part of it was just that horrible irony of being autistic and hating change and how, when you try to make a change that’s hopefully going to help you, it’s so hard to imagine that it really is going to to help because the change itself is so distressing and so difficult. It feels like, ‘how can this be helpful?!’ And even though I know that that is a big part of it but that doesn’t just turn off that feeling.
I had so many anxieties about Daisy moving in permanently: that she’d chase the cats, that she and Izzy wouldn’t be able to get on, that the change would be too overwhelming, and so on… I was so anxious that I would just be so overwhelmed that I wouldn’t be able to do what I needed to do to enable Daisy to do what she was supposed to do, to support me like she was supposed to; even if she wasn’t fully qualified yet, she was still well practiced in many of her skills. I just couldn’t help fearing that the whole thing was going to be a messy disaster that didn’t work the way it was supposed to and that Daisy would be taken away when I was already so attached to her. I had all of these worst case scenarios in my head that I wouldn’t be able to negate until Daisy was actually there; if she arrived and didn’t chase the cats, then that anxiety would be solved but I couldn’t know that until she was there and so the anxiety just felt never-ending and suffocating.
I had just thought that I would feel more confident by this point. I also thought I’d be in a lot less pain but I’m actually in more pain than when we began this process, which obviously isn’t idea when working with and looking after a dog – and Daisy is a lot stronger and more solid than Izzy (who barely weighs three kilograms). I didn’t want to let Daisy down by not doing enough but moving is so painful that I am really limited. It really felt like being stuck between a rock and a hard place: I stick to my limits and don’t get to do as much with Daisy as feels important to do or I push past my limits to do everything with Daisy and end up in even worse pain. So there’s that but the last few months have been so stressful and all of that was just filling up my brain until it was so overloaded that there wasn’t the space to process any of it or look at it from a different angle or even just breathe. I was trying so hard not to spiral into all of this anxiety because if I did, I would’ve been completely non-functional and I really couldn’t afford to be non-functional with Daisy arriving the next morning.
We’ve had multiple people share their experience with us through the Autism Dogs community and most of them have said that it’s taken time to find a rhythm and a routine that words for the whole household but nobody said it was a complete disaster, which is reassuring. But I was still a ball of anxiety all evening and I doubted that I was going to be able to get much sleep, given my history of sleep problems – especially when my anxiety is high. But I tried. I needed some rest before the two days began.
DAY ONE
It was a difficult day. As predicted, I slept badly so it was a struggle to be up and ready for 11am when Daisy and the trainer, Julia, were due to arrive. So I was anxious and exhausted, which wasn’t ideal. And I was very overstimulated when Daisy and Julia arrived: Izzy was barking her head off at another dog daring to encroach on her territory and Daisy was barking back, although a lot more quietly and gently. Her barks felt more along the lines of ‘What did I do? Why are you barking at me?’ So it was pretty chaotic to begin with but once we’d settled in the kitchen, the two of them started to settle down too, although Izzy was still very bewildered by everything that was going on.
Once everybody was nice and calm, we gave Daisy a tour of the house and Julia checked everything out, just to be sure that everything was safe for Daisy. We’re pretty pet-proofed because of Izzy and the cats but another pair of eyes couldn’t hurt, especially from someone who is very familiar with the routines of the dogs on the Autism Dogs farm. For example, there aren’t any stairs there so going up the stairs (and later down again) was a new experience for Daisy. It’s also true that Daisy is a lot bigger and stronger than all of the other animals – probably combined – so she can knock things over and so on; there are different risks; Julia wasn’t worried though and had some great tips for keeping things secure and out of reach and so on.
That was it officially for the day; the rest of the day was just about playing and bonding and just letting everyone get used to Daisy’s sudden arrival (and Daisy to her new environment). Julia had given her a good, long walk so she wasn’t going to need much more exercise; it was really all about the bonding. So Julia left and it was just me, Mum, and the animals. The cats had vanished, deeply unimpressed by the arrival of a big black dog (that was too excitable and did not have enough control over her limbs and her body in general – she quickly earned the nickname ‘Horse’ for the way she barrels around the house) and Izzy was very unsure, sticking very close to me. The chaos and the noise and the anxiety had pushed me into completely sensory and emotional overwhelm and I just cried and cried until I fell asleep on the sofa.
I was better for the sleep and me, Mum, and the two dogs had a relatively chilled afternoon. I made sure to spend time with Izzy so that she didn’t feel like she’d suddenly been abandoned but I also managed to have some good bonding time with Daisy. She seems to think that she’s the same size as Izzy and that she can fit in my lap, which she cannot, not without either sublaxing my hips or making my legs go to sleep. I don’t really get a choice in the matter though: if she wants to sit on me, she will sit on me. It is very sweet, if not the most comfortable way to cuddle. It was hard though because, when she was wandering around – exploring her new environment and sniffing everything – I just couldn’t concentrate on anything but her, just in case she got herself into trouble. I mean, we’ve had animals safely in this space for years but I couldn’t help feeling anxious that, because she’s a bigger dog, she’d find something to get into that the other animals were never able to; she’s definitely much more likely to knock something over without even realising that that’s what she’s doing. I just could not relax, constantly on watch. I’d cried three or four times, mostly from emotional or sensory overwhelm, and I was frustrated by how little I’d managed to get done, having spent so much time just watching the dogs and making sure that they weren’t getting into any shenanigans. Daisy seemed so discombobulated by her new environment and by all of the new things that were going on that she was barely listening when we – me or Mum – gave her an instruction, even as something as simple as recall or getting off the furniture. It was very frustrating and it just increased my anxiety about how to be a good pet owner to all of the animals, how to be a good handler to Daisy, how to do all of that at the same time. All of that on top of it being a bad pain day (making it hard to do much with her given that I could barely move and that she’s relatively unaware of her own strength), it just took up every grain of energy I had.
All in all, it was a complicated, overwhelming day. I wouldn’t call it a bad day and there were definitely good moments but it was very difficult and an emotional rollercoaster and I was exhausted by the time I went to bed at 11pm – much earlier than I’m usually in bed. I got the dogs sorted, both of them curled up on my bed, and got myself sorted before joining them, not that there was much space for me. But Daisy didn’t stay long: we had a cuddle and then she hopped off and climbed into her bed, still close by. Izzy burrowed closer to me, always game for snuggling as we go to sleep.
DAY TWO
I slept like I’d pulled a week of all-nighters and struggled up, holding up the schedule for the day because I just couldn’t get ready – couldn’t move – any faster. I was already exhausted but I was determined to get through the day so that Daisy could be officially moved in.
Julia, the Autism Dogs trainer, was already there when I got downstairs, enjoying some snuggles from Izzy who she’d completely fallen in love with. Once I was ready to go, I practiced getting Daisy into her harness and her working lead and then we all headed to the park. Because of my pain, we practiced from a bench with Daisy on the long lead. I threw balls for her and we practiced recall and practiced walking on the working lead. She was really, really good and that gave me a bit more confidence after Daisy’s lack of focus the night before.
After about an hour, we headed back home, Daisy having been beautifully behaved (although she did get herself and the long lead wrapped around tree several times). I was tired but we didn’t have much left to do so I pushed through so that we could get everything done and signed off. We ran through each of Daisy’s basic commands and practiced them a few times, including her deep pressure therapy. Izzy gets quite jealous when Daisy does it, when she drapes herself over my lap, but Julia isn’t worried. She’s confident that they’ll find their own rhythm over time: day two was not the day to be worrying about whether they’d ever get along. I know that logically but it does make me anxious because I love Izzy so much but then I also so badly want it all to work with Daisy; all of that is just constantly in the back of my mind.
Confident that we were feeling good about things, Julia left us to it. She’d be back sometime in the next couple of months to do the two days of public access and family training that would make Daisy an official, fully qualified Autism Assistance Dog.
After bidding Julia goodbye, the four of us had a very relaxed afternoon and evening. Daisy and I had some good cuddles and Izzy eventually broached the space she’d been giving Daisy so that she was getting some attention too. Watching them together is already so funny; Izzy can get overwhelmed and overprotective – of me in particular, but also of her toys and her favourite spaces, etc – but while they were both sleepy and cuddly, it was very sweet. Daisy was beyond excited for dinner, as always, which only got Izzy more hyped up and then me, Mum, and both dogs spent the evening chilling with a movie. Daisy was a bit restless: she didn’t have her own bed at the farm – all of the dogs shared beds and sofas and soft spaces – so she wasn’t used to it. She kept getting in and out of it and turning around, like she couldn’t figure how to get comfortable in it (it took her a few days but she worked it out).
We were all exhausted and went to bed early again. And that was the end of day two.
So that’s that: Daisy is moved in. From there, we had a couple of months to bond and build routines and let relationships and boundaries form until Julia came back to do the public access and family training with us.

#WelfareNotWarfare
Posted on June 30, 2025
During the last several elections, I’ve felt frustration that I couldn’t vote Labour and help to oust the Conservatives who’d been in power since before I could vote. Don’t get me wrong, I am proud to vote for The Green Party but there was a level of frustration in that I had to vote Green in order to avoid splitting the vote between Green and Labour and letting the Conservatives get in. Voting Green keeps The Green Party in, which I do absolutely want, but it was hard knowing that it never swayed the overall outcome and that was quite distressing. Having said that, in this recent election, never have I been so glad to have voted Green and not Labour…
Today is the final day of the government’s Pathways To Work consultation – nicknamed “consult-a-sham” – on the disability cuts bill and as much work has been done and pressure applied by disabled people’s grassroots groups and charities, as much as people have protested (in the streets and online), and as many emails have been sent to MPs, I’m still so scared that this bill will go through because I don’t think the government is listening; I don’t think many MPs care (again, I’m so fucking grateful that my MP is Sian Berry who does very much care). They don’t seem to care about any of the evidence and no argument will convince them that this bill will not get disabled people working and that it will, in fact, be completely devastating: disabled people will be pushed into poverty, their health will deteriorate, lives will be lost (and taken out of desperation). And yet so many among the government are focussed on the non-existant savings instead. You know how they could save money? By taxing the rich. And you know what? There are millionaires and billionaires ASKING the government to tax them over disabled people.
I am utterly terrified of what the upcoming cuts will mean, for the disabled community, for my disabled friends, and for myself. Many of us rely on these benefits to manage our conditions on a daily basis, whether working or not, because being disabled is inherently expensive. We will be losing thousands of pounds a year that we depend on for survival, forget living or thriving. Taking these funds away will be devastating and, as I said, will cost people their lives.
I struggle daily with multiple physical disabilities, multiple chronic illnesses, multiple neurodivergent conditions, and multiple mental health problems. I have spent the last three plus years struggling to survive, struggling to stay alive because I was and often am so depressed. I struggle everyday with the trauma of living like this, of living like this in a society that sees me as a burden. My needs are complex but there are individuals with far more complex needs than mine. Without adequate support, even day to day living can be impossible. I’ve never been able to work, having first gotten sick at twelve years old, but that does not mean that I haven’t relentlessly tried my best to become stronger, physically and mentally, to contribute wherever I can. Without PIP, none of my achievements would’ve been possible. Without PIP, that is all over. The support I’ve had to find and fund myself – through PIP – after being repeatedly let down by the NHS will be gone and, without it, I don’t know what will happen. I truly don’t know how I will survive.
These cuts are not in line with the core values of The Labour Party, the party this country voted in, the party that established the welfare state. If they really stood by these values, they would be trying to improve the lives of disabled people rather than following in the footsteps of the Conservatives, cutting benefits and support, and then taking it further than even the Conservatives were willing to go: they felt that £3 billion in cuts would make them look bad. Apparently Labour weren’t worried about this, almost doubling that figure. Those in support of this bill should be ashamed of themselves. They wouldn’t last a week on PIP. How dare they rip away our lifeline and then have the audacity to claim that they’re helping us. The cuts that Starmer is pushing for, while deliberately ignoring the obvious benefits of a wealth tax, has been declared a violation of our human rights by the UN. A. violation. of. human. rights. Let that sink in.
I don’t know how it can be legal to use to a manifesto supporting the disabled community, if only vaguely – their own concrete commitment was to “consult and coproduce disability policy with disabled people’s organisations” – to get voted in, only to do the complete opposite and put thousands and thousands of lives in jeopardy. How is this democracy? How can democracy ever be upheld when political parties can say whatever they want to get elected, only to do whatever they want, regardless of the promises they’ve made. Where are the consequences when they are the ones in power?
Labour have added concessions to the bill but I doubt they’ve been received as the government would’ve hoped; they most likely hoped that it would appease those protesting but many see it as a win, as a sign that putting pressure on the government is working and that we must continue to do so. There was an incredible protest in London today, for example, and although I was advised not to go on medical grounds, I did attend online and it was very inspiring. This community is amazing and I’m so proud to be a part of it, even if it is a community that none of chose to join.
The only way that I think the DWP can ever be truly effective is if it is run by disabled people, by those who truly understand what it is like – what support a person might need and how expensive it is – to be disabled. Labour’s promise of coproduction has been completely forgotten about but the system was far from perfect – a true understatement – before they came to power. Steve Topple wrote an excellent article about all of this for The Canary: it’s well worth a read. As he says, “If this bill passes, it will be in defiance of disabled people, not in partnership with them. That is the DWP’s legacy.”
I don’t know what’s going to happen, how the vote will go. I want to believe that there has been enough protest, enough letters, enough tragedy already to prove that it is a catastrophic, callous move but I still can’t help but fear that it will pass because not enough MPs care about disabled people. I am so grateful for the ones that have spoken up – like my MP, Sian Berry – but I worry that it won’t be enough, especially considering how many Labour MPs who once upon a time stood for improving the quality of living for disabled people have since changed their views, no doubt pandering to the right wing; seeing videos and quotes of their previous comments compared to their current ones makes me feel physically nauseous.
But with only hours left, I have to have hope because there’s nothing else to be done. On a personal level, I’ve gone to every protest I can manage, written letter after letter after letter, and signed every petition I could find. I’ve spent more time on social media than was probably good for my mental health. I hope that it’s been enough but either way, it was worth it. If I did everything I could do, then it wasn’t time wasted, regardless of the outcome. I just hope the outcome is the one that we want it to be.
Finding Hope
