I always wanted a dog.

I like dogs. I always always wanted a dog as a child. My Dad had them but I didn't live with him. I had proper imaginary dogs until I was about 11 years old.

Spending a week hanging out and playing with The Tokoroth I realised how many similarities there were with having a pet dog. You play with a dog, you feed a dog, you walk a dog, you get nervous when it is walking by the road without a lead (note to Childline: he doesn't really have a lead), it makes a mess, you toilet train it, it comes in from outside and makes muddy prints before you rugby tackle it to the ground and so on. Yeah, The Tokoroth is just like a pet dog. Where it should be different is the communication. I mean most dogs, even the crazy ones will come if you call it.

Tokoroth does not come when you call his name. If you walked up to him and said his name he's most likely not to look up or acknowledge you. He's not deaf though. If you whispered "chocolate" while you were in the kitchen and he was in the office with the computer on full volume, he'd hear and he'd be there.

Selective hearing, just like a dog. You tell a dog there's a bone, he's there. You tell that dog not to take the bone on the sofa, all of a sudden he's a deaf dog.

You can talk to dogs, you can tell them about your day and they will listen, sometimes attentively and sometimes a bit distractedly as they bait the cat or play with a toy and, well, I think you can see where I'm going with this. So far, so analagous.

The problem occurs when you want feedback. You know? Those times you curly up with your favourite labrador and explain this quadratic equation you are having problems with (you don't?!) and they just look a bit blank. In fact you can explain or tell them anything and they'll happily listen, even look like they understand but they just won't help you solve it.

Here's an example. I spent part of tonight reading a story (George's Marvelous Medicine, Ronald Dahl, if you were interested) to Little M and Tokoroth. Little M pitched in, asked questions and clamoured to see any pictures. Tokoroth lay there looking somewhere between me and the ceiling neither engaged nor disengaged. Just quiet. I stopped reading and spoke to Tokoroth.

"How was your day?" He cocked his head, glanced at me.
"Did you go to school?" No response (he was at nursery).
"Did you see your friends?" No response.
"Did you see Grandma?" No response.
"What would you like for breakfast tomorrow?" No response.

I applied a control question:"Would you like a cup of water?" He replied to this "Oh, yes please!" in his curiously squeaky little voice.

Nothing wrong with his hearing. I've no idea if he understood all of the questions I asked, or not, or only answers the questions he wants to. Possibly a combination of both.

I'll spare anyone reading the science behind this but it's a classic impairment not just of speech, and of an ability to communicate but also to understand my desire for him to answer. Never mind though, he's curled up at the end of the bed making snuffly noises.

I always wanted a dog, right? :)