ShareThisWICHITA FALLS, Texas - The gentle ministry of three little dogs has been life-changing for James Cowley, 7.
If it weren't for the school visits of the furry threesome with Puppy Love Reading Director Michelle Nester, James, a second-grader, might not be talking to his teachers or classmates.
On a recent afternoon, James sat beside the three longhair Chihuahuas -- Gabriel, furry white Mallory and tiny black Mariposa -- as they quietly padded around on a blanket spread on a table in the school's science lab.
James pressed stickers into a handmade book that he and Nester had been making together all year.
Fascinated by the science lab that he isn't yet old enough to take classes in, James pointed to a model of the Earth, sun and moon that sat on a windowsill.
"The Earth looks like this," he said, pointing to the blue ball painted with oceans. Then he explained how the Earth turned on its axis once a day and how the sun shines on India at one time of the day and on Texas at another time.
Talking isn't a problem anymore for the intelligent little boy.
But when James enrolled in school last year, the blond first-grader immediately presented his teachers with a dilemma: He wouldn't talk to any of them.
He wouldn't talk to his scoutmaster or soccer coach, either.
When he was a kindergartner, James even refused to talk with some of his family members, like grandpas, aunts and uncles.
"When friends came over, he'd be jumping around, making his presence known, but he wouldn't say anything," said his mother, Meighan Cowley.
In the privacy of their home, James talked constantly, she said. He just wouldn't talk at school.
When he tried, his face clouded over with such fear that no words escaped.
He liked school and even volunteered by raising his hand when his teacher asked questions. But when she'd call on him, his face contorted as he attempted to participate, and nothing happened.
"Selective mute," said one counselor who worked with him in kindergarten.
No traumatic event triggered it, his mother said.
Still, he liked school. "He'd be sick, but he'd still want to go to school," she said.
His first-grade teacher, Jennifer Shaver, tried not to pressure James to speak. His class work showed he is clearly bright.
But it wasn't long before classmates began teasing him -- or talking for him.
On his sports teams, children made fun of him.
"He felt it, but it didn't change anything," said his mother. He balled his fists as he tried to push words out, but they wouldn't come.
His face looked stricken with fear when adults addressed him. "It's just nerves," his mother said.
She stopped talking for him, hoping to draw him out.
By April, his first-grade teacher got an idea. Shaver called James' mother and introduced her to Michelle Nester's Puppy Love Reading, a program that brought Nester and her therapy dogs into the classroom to sit in the laps of children who struggle to read. The children's desire to read to the dogs often helps them work harder at reading.
Maybe the little dogs would open him up, Shaver said.
At her invitation, Nester began visiting James. Her three dogs rode into school nestled together in a baby stroller.
He relaxed with Nester's bright smile, gentle demeanor, well-behaved Chihuahuas, and quiet projects that they worked on outside the classroom.
"I decided it was not my job to figure out why he wasn't communicating," Nester said. "I could tell he could. I thought, 'Let's just make him as happy as we can.' "
Nester visited him with her dogs every week. Together, they pasted scrapbook stickers into a journal, and James labeled the pictures with words and quotes.
On her third visit, the two worked with stickers of dogs. Nester asked him how he would label what a dog would say.
"Barf!" he said suddenly, making his own doglike bark.
On her next visit, James was labeling a sticker of a dog running after a bone. As Nester asked him about it, he puffed up his cheeks like he wanted to speak.
"Is it hard to think the word?" she asked.
He nodded his head.
With deliberation, he choked out, "Fetch!"
But she couldn't have been more surprised by what came next.
"He turned to me and said, 'Would you like me to read you a story?' "
His reading was smooth and effortless. "I told him, 'You don't have trouble with any of the words in there.' "
"No," he said. "I usually don't."
"From that time on, we had a great time talking," Nester said.
(Ann Work is a reporter for the Wichita Falls Times Record News
