Gooseberry

by Robin Gow

Ze lives a ten-minute drive away in Hazelton, Pennsylvania. We used to be neighbors when I lived at the bones house but now ze is too far away to walk so we just message all the time. Of course, I told zer all about Gooseberry but I didn’t get a picture of him. The one online at the Humane Society was blurry. It didn’t do him justice.

I lived a ten-minute drive from Hazleton, Pa! (But we spelled it differently than the book did.)

He rushes out to the food immediately, chomping on the kibble, getting little flecks of drool and food on the floor and me. “Slow down boy, there’s always going to be more,” I say, and I reach forward to pull the bowl back. As I do, Gooseberry growls, sharp and terrifying, and almost nips my hand before gulping down more kibble. I yank my hand back and scramble away from him. My hand is OK but my brain feels like it’s exploded and gone to a different planet. I can’t believe he would bite me. But then I feel bad, because I might also feel grumpy if someone tried to take away my food. He swallows more, licking his lips, and I can see all the goodness he has in his eyes and I feel sad. Why can’t he just trust me? I know exactly what I’m doing. I’ve watched so many training videos. Is he just never going to let me train him?

This kid has no business trying to train this dog.

“Come!” I say again, more chippe this time to make it sound fun.

typo.

Mrs. Luca said the school psychologist suspects I have autism. Eri cut Mrs. Luca off and said, “I don’t want you to talk about it like that. You’re saying it like autism is a disease. If it’s part of who B is, then I don’t want them to ever feel like that part is bad.” I felt uncomfortable because things felt tense. I’d never seen Eri so firm about something. I didn’t really know much about autism so I just kind of listened. Mrs. Luca furrowed her brow and asked, “Well what would you like me to say?” “Autistic, you can say they’re autistic,” she said. Mrs. Luca paused and replied, “We are usually taught not to say that. It can sound . . . not polite.” “What’s not polite is that you or anyone else would think being autistic is something negative,” Eri said. Mrs. Luca didn’t seem to know how to respond to that. I felt really happy Eri cared so much about me that she talked back to a teacher, but I guess when you’re an adult you can talk back to teachers more. Still, I do want to think for myself about what words feel right. I don’t know how I feel about being autistic or having autism yet.

This is literally the opposite of what I've learned as a teacher.

ROBIN GOW is a poet, educator, and witch from rural Pennsylvania. It is a community educator on disability justice and LGBTQIA2+ issues and an author of critically acclaimed books for children and young adults, including Dear Mothman, Ode to My First Car, and A Million Quiet Revolutions. Fae lives with faer partner and their many lovely pets. Fae enjoys wandering in the woods and any kind of arts and crafts.