The dog lay stretched out along the length of the elderly man’s side as they reclined together in an easy chair. The dog’s cold, wet nose was tucked under the man’s chin, his large, furry head rested against the frail frame that over fifty years earlier, possessed the strength to struggle through a barrage of bullets, on a beach in Normandy. His name was Phillip*; a veteran of WWII, a grandfather, accomplished physicist, lover of animals, and my friend. A few years before, we’d met as volunteers at an animal shelter. He was dying of cancer. Phillip had asked me to bring one of my dogs to visit, while he was a patient on the Hospice unit. That day, was Humphrey’s turn, to come and see our beloved friend.
Humphrey was a rescued, 6 yr old Boxer mix. It was a wonder the both of them fit in the chair, as Humphrey was a large dog; but Phillip made room, wanting to feel the warmth and gentle breathing of the dog next to him. Phillip sighed as he closed his eyes to nap, (Humphrey’s were already shut), saying that he “could happily go now” as he could “think of no better way, than next to a dog.” He had loved and rescued many of them, for most of his 78 years. Phillip had taken these same naps with one or more of my dogs, when visiting me. I would pray then, as I did at that time, that Phillip would be able “to go,” while he was so at peace and felt such comfort.
My experience with Phillip, along with reading an article about the positive benefits of animal-assisted therapy for Hospice patients was the catalyst for our interest in becoming volunteers for this organization. We’d been visiting schools, hospitals and nursing homes since 1997. My mother was a Hospice patient during the final year of her life.
“Until one has loved an animal, a part of one’s soul remains unawakened.” Anatole France
The essence of this quotation beautifully illustrates what I’ve witnessed during my visits. Regardless of breed or size, when a patient realizes a dog is present, it’s as if an inner switch is flipped. They are often able to focus on the moment and will reach out to touch the warm fur, or caress the smooth, rounded head . . . recalling fond memories of past pets they’ve loved. That simple, gentle touch can provide an avenue that allows both the patient and family members to direct their thoughts away from the worries they face and the pain that often threatens to overwhelm them. The warm, luminous eyes, can speak to a level of comfort and understanding for which we often struggle to find the words. Dogs don’t ask questions or judge. They don’t care how we look or that we are sick – that can be a very powerful tool in getting a patient or family member to open up.
A dog’s degree of perception can be amazing. There was Woogie, a Pit mix, born blind and deaf. Visiting an inpatient facility for youth with behavioral issues, he showed only a brief interest in the other dozen kids sitting on the floor. He targeted on a thin, quiet young boy, pushing himself onto his lap and licking his face. The boy seemed pleased and surprised at the attention. I remember telling him that “Woogie must see something in you that he likes.” We were later informed by the unit supervisor that the young man, who’d been admitted several weeks prior, had broken down after we left. He was finally able to talk to a counselor, tearfully remorseful, over his killing the family dog in a fit of anger.
Then there’s Beowulf, a very energetic American Bulldog. His demeanor changes, becoming calm and focused once he puts on his vest and harness; he knows he’s “working”; he realizes he’s there on the unit for a purpose. Grendel, an American Bulldog rescued from a life of abuse, is an 85 lb gentle giant, especially good with children. Toby, a 3-legged, 5 lb Min Pin, loves to cuddle and will curl up closely in “any willing lap.” Even if a patient or family member does not want physical contact, an animal can make a connection and an impression that defies logic. In a nursing home we’ve visited for 15 years, the residents remember the name of the dog, but often do not remember me!
Studies have long upheld the fact that animal-assisted therapy can offer immediate benefits that are both physical and physiological. That holds true not only for the patient and family, but for me as well. There is no better feeling than seeing the pain-dimmed eyes of a patient, light up – or the face of that family member, normally creased with worry and exhaustion, relax and smile, when they see the dog or feel the insistent push of a cold, wet nose against their hand. Perhaps for at least a brief time, that part of the soul is again awakened, proof that one is still alive and worthy of being loved – unconditionally.
Laura Nordan
Hospice of the Bluegrass Volunteer
Therapy certification: Pawsibilities Unleashed Pet Therapy of Kentucky, Inc. 501©3
Liz Norris, AKC Master Trainer/Founder – Therapy & Service Dog Training
www.pawsibilitiesunleashed.org
*The name and particular details have been modified to protect patient information.