Once upon a time, not so long ago…

The following is a true story.  One afternoon, Einstein the Therapy Dog, my Marketer, and I were visiting one of our Residents at a local Hospital. It is always fun to walk the halls and greet people in Hospitals, it feels much like a mini parade, with the Therapy Dog as the main attraction.  People constantly crane their necks with loving eyes, longing eagerly to pet the dog.  It’s only natural, as the hospital can be a stressful place, and petting a dog has a calming effect.   We are met with many glances and oohs and aahs.  It feels like you are walking with a celebrity, who is oblivious to his own celebrity status. This celebrity just happens to have an irresistible fur coat and walks on four feet.  On this day we were only going to breeze in to say hi, wave like politicians, then take our bow and exit stage left.  As we crammed into an elevator, Einstein immediately went to a side position patiently facing the reflective twin doors.  I noticed in the door’s reflection, there was a hospital staff member giving us the “look.”  Without the use of any clairvoyance, I postulated an assumption of what she wanted.  This look usually signifies they are interested in our furry friend and a need to pet the dog.  When the doors parted on our intended floor, we all stepped out and into a conversation with the staff member who was eyeing us.  It turns out that she was a Hospital Social Worker, and inquired if we were working on the floor today?  To her dismay, I had to break the news that we were not employees of the hospital; and the errant that brought us here today was to visit one of our patients.   I spoke proudly that we were the only skilled nursing facility in the area with our own dedicated Therapy Dog Teams.  With that, like a gameshow host, I motioned with a wave of my hand in the direction of Einstein who proudly sported the embossed Therapy Dog Vest, with his name on it.  People seem to respond more earnestly to the dog when they know it has a name.  The name brings a more human connection to the animal. 

Her sheepish smile told us that she wanted something more from us.  With a shrug of the shoulders, she found the courage and humility to ask for our help.  We are always eager to show off our talented dogs in any situation, I saw this as another way to spread the Therapy Dog gospel.  With a nod at the dog, I asked what can we do for you?  She was very kind, and in a gentle tone asked if we would be willing to go and see a patient that “might” be receptive to a Pet Therapy visit.  The word Might hung in the air for a moment before landing in the lane of people who don’t like dog’s airport.  The Social Worker continued, “this patient is terminal and on Hospice care, and all attempts to make her comfortable were failing”. We agreed to see the patient, with a disclaimer that she might not want to see Einstein.  If that was the case, she would most definitely not want to see me for that matter.  We all agreed, as most people are hard pressed to deny a visit with a beautiful Goden Retriever.  A short walk, and another elevator ride later, we found ourselves at the door of the patient’s room.  The air was heavy with two distraught family members whispering to each other, outside the room.  The family members turned to see us, and to find Einstein the Golden Retriever standing at the door waiting for permission to enter. I took one for the team and held fast against the brunt of their strange looks.  It must have been some sight, a stranger approaching the door with a dog staring right at the door as if using telekinesis to open it.  We informed the two solemn relatives that we were told that there might be a patient that would like or benefit from a Therapy Dog visit.  I felt like I was asking a question, more than making a statement.  Heck, most of the time I am the second half of the Therapy team who takes a back seat to the real hero of the show, Einstein.  I’m like Robin to Batman, Oats to Daryl Hall, and Abbott to Costello.  I think you get the point.  The family members again looked at us strangely, and said, my sister doesn’t really like animals, in fact she has never owned one before. You can certainly try, they said.  What lessened the awkwardness of this situation was that the family members were nice about the offer of a possibly fruitless effort.  I could sense that they were running the whole gamete of painful emotions at that time.   Einstein and I did not want to add to an already difficult situation that was painfully unfolding.  With that, I gave Einstein a quick flick with a finger on the lead, and we were on our way.  I knocked gently, and announced in a low whisper, “Pet Therapy.”

As we entered the room I immediately went into Handler Mode, guiding my dog with hand gestures; and letting him do his job. There were several other family members that were all seated around the bed, and several other nurses. Emotions were quite frankly off the charts, and I could sense that Einstein could smell the sorrow and love that was intermingled from all the occupants in the room.  The room was very warm and dark.  Our path was riddled with tables, chairs, and other items that beeped, blinked, and made sounds only found in a hospital.  It took a little work to negotiate the minefield of equipment designed to sustain comfort to the patient.  This is what Einstein and other Therapy Dogs are trained to do, navigate difficult places and he did it effortlessly.  Einstein was quiet and gentle, as he padded his way to the bedside of the woman.   Einstein was careful not to bump into any tables or knock any precarious items over, it was second nature for him to work in suffocatingly tight conditions.

At bedside, the woman’s face wore a grimace of exhaustion and pain as she turned her head ever so slowly till our eyes met.    There was a distance far beyond her sunken eyes that set upon me.  It was as if she was looking through or past me, with another form of vision.  I spoke in a soft and reverent tone.  “Hi, my name is Robert, and this is Einstein; would you like a pet visit?”  I motioned my hand slowly and deliberately toward the dog.   She was able to track my movement down to Einstein. The woman’s eyes were tired, but followed my hand, bringing Einstein into her labored field of vision.  It took a moment for her to shift her gaze of bewilderment from me to the Golden Retriever Einstein. Her skin color was jaundice, and she was frighteningly thin.  There was a vast amount of IV tubes attached to her left arm.  She strained a look back at me and nodded an approving yes to my question.  With that I approached the right side of the bed, using the touch command, and guided Einstein forward.  This is when I go into step back mode. I am letting Einstein have all the spotlight, but I am totally focused on my K9.  As Einstein approached the Lady, he stopped and stared into her gaunt eyes, and she him. The world became just the woman and the dog, and I had never seen him hold a gaze that long before. It was as if the hands of time slowed down just for this moment, this meeting.  Something was happening, and we could all feel it. She took a ragged deep breath and drew her arm out and reached over to him.  Watching her strain with each chest fall was heartbreaking.  All of Einstein’s body language exhibited that he knew what he was doing and why.  Einstein sat obediently and gave the woman his heart and soul.  For a dog that meant his companionship and his complete attention, living in that moment with her.  Einstein was close enough for her to pet his head, and he lovingly sat at her bedside accepting her touch. He sat still, letting her stroke his fur, and they both lived in the moment.  She moved in slow motion, and Einstein was very receptive.  He was patient, and knew this Lady was very ill, and needed his company.  It was then that I became aware of low mumblings and voices from behind me. Like hearing a storm off in the distance moving closer.  I detected the pitch of noses sniffling and a door closing or opening, I could not tell which.  I did not want to turn around and take my attention off what was happening. Handlers must always be aware of their dogs’ actions and reactions.  We are their protectors in all environments, in all times.  I refocused my attention back onto the couple and I could see she was saying goodbye to Einstein, and he to her. Her parched lips parted a mumble of his name, “Einstein”.  Einstein’s tongue flicked a quick lick at her hand.  I hoped, as I always do, that in his way he was telling her everything was going to be alright.  After some time, the exhausted Lady gently pulled her hand back to her side and took one last deep look at Einstein, then me. I whispered, “thank you for the visit. If you would like us to come back again, even tomorrow, let us know”.  For a moment, I looked into the eyes of a human that just shared the oxytocin bond with a dog.  Her eyes were more relaxed, and she did not wear the countenance on her face as when we entered.  She blinked with a pleasant expression, and I interpreted that as a yes. I could feel the wave of emotions washing over me as well as everyone in the room.

Einstein and I stepped out of the room that felt more at peace after the visit.  Into one world we stepped, and back to our previous existence we returned.  The atmosphere outside the room was jarring.  It was like being thrust back into a world where you were stomping on your brake pedal at the last minute at stop light you almost ran through.  This environment now moved at a much faster pace than in the room.  It was as if time had resumed moving at a normal speed again.   Einstein and I pulled up to where there were nurses, and a Family member with eyes full of tears.  I asked, is everything alright? I wanted to make sure we did not inadvertently offend anyone and checked out properly.  A nurse wiped her eyes, and choked back a torrent of feelings, “that is the most the Lady has responded to anyone in quite some time”. The family member I originally met when we first arrived, must have entered the room behind me at some time.  As tears rolled down her face, she said, “We were all amazed at how deeply she looked at Einstein. That look in her eyes showed us she was still down in there”.  It was truly amazing and beautiful they remarked, emotions running openly now.  They thanked us, and all I could say was, it was all Einsteins doing.  I’m the best supporting actor, and I just stand there holding the leash. The silent truth is that Dogs and Handlers are partners in all they do.   The sister knelt and bestowed upon Einstein a great reward.  In a voice just above a whisper, she said with deep emotion, “Thank you”, and ruffled his coat.  I knew and so did Einstein, that the sick woman was very loved, and had touched many lives in her time.  They thanked us again, and we thanked them for letting us be a part of their family if only for a few minutes.

We were called the next morning for another visit.  Excited, we had no trouble saying we would be there.  We hurried to see her, but we were too late. We missed her by minutes.

This was an experience with Einstein that I will never forget. I know that at that moment, Einstein was able to make a difference in one person’s life.  If only for a few minutes, those precious moments will last a lifetime.  This is what Petting Therapy is truly all about, making the connection, and touching lives one person at a time.

Robert McKenna, MBA, CSDT #9102517893

A picture of Einstein in his working vest can be found on the Home page, and below.