~Author: Terry Perret Martin~
I found Jake, one night, roaming the streets. He was all skin and bones, his fur was
matted, and he was filthy and he was exhausted. The only thing shiny about him were
his big eyes. They looked just like the eyes of a deer.
The next day, I took Jake to the vet. After his examination, the vet said, "I'm
afraid this dog has a serious heart condition. I don't expect him to make it to the
end of the week". I'd only had him one night, but the news hit me hard.
A month passed as Jake proved the doctor wrong. Jake blossomed; clearly he adored
people and loved life. Because he had survived, against all odds, I chose to enroll
Jake as a member of the Therapy Team that enlists animals and their owners to visit the
seriously ill in our local hospitals. For the next six years, we spent every Friday
night at the hospital in the oncology/hematology units; we saw hundreds of patients.
One particular visit stands out, We were working with another team, Sherry and
her dog, MacDuff. It had been a long Friday night after a long Friday, and we
were all tired. It was well past eleven o'clock, and as we passed the elevator, the
doors opened and a man in his fifties and his grown son stepped out. They almost ran
into Jake and me. "Oh, how beautiful', said the son. "Can we pet
them?" "Sure, that's why we're here", was my
reply.
The son knelt down and embraced the dogs, then jumped up and asked, "Can they visit a
patient?" He glanced at his father. His father looked down at the
floor and said slowly, with emotion, "My wife is very ill".
They led the way down the hall, and as we entered the silent room, I saw the patient lying
on her side under the covers. She was asleep, twisted in a fetal position. She
was very pale, and I knew instantly that this should be a short visit.
I pulled a chair over next to her head. I sat down and Jake hopped right up into my
lap. I gently took the woman's clenched fist and let her knuckles stroke Jake's long
soft ears.
I spoke directly to the woman, "This is Jake, and he's got very long ears. We
think he's part cocker spaniel and part Irish setter". Her hand relaxed, slowly
opened and lightly gripped onto Jake's ear. Jake glanced at me with his big deer
eyes; we knew we'd made contact. I asked the woman, "Did you ever think you'd
see a dog in the hospital?'
She opened her eyes just a bit and answered very slowly, but clearly, "No, I never
thought I'd see a dog here". She started to gently pat Jake's head unaided,
with a completely open hand. I smiled. She smiled. Jake smiled.
I said, "He's got a partner here. MacDuff would like to see you if it's okay
with you". Sherry lifted MacDuff up. The patient's face filled with
delight when she saw Mac, a beautiful sheltie.
She exclaimed, "My father used to raise shelties". She asked her son
to help her so she could hug Mac Every eye in that hospital room was on
them. Her husband and son beamed.
We didn't stay much longer after that hug, but the once-solemn room was now filled with
warmth. For Sherry and I, this was an absolutely lovely visit with a devoted
family. But as we enthusiastically told the nurse about the patient talking and
hugging Mac and Jake, she interrupted, "You must have the wrong room:. We
confirmed the name and the room. The nurse stood very still.
"What is it?" Sherry asked.
The nurse, then, began to explain that this patient was very sick. Only 5 percent of
her brain was functioning. On her arrival, they didn't think she'd make it through
the first night. She'd been there a week, but had not awakened. . . . .in fact, she
wasn't expected to ever awake. Family and friends had been keeping a vigil by her bedside
the entire time.
As the nurse scurried down the hall to check on her patient, we saw the father and son
holding tightly to each other outside the room. They were jubilant. We turned
and looked down at Jake and Mac. . . . .sound asleep n the middle of the nurse's
station. I guess miracles are exhausting.
My dog, Jake, and others like him have a power that leaves me in awe: He lay with
people as they prepared for death. He listened as a young mother rehearsed words to
her children, telling them that she wouldn't be there to celebrate their joys or comfort
their sadness. He had the ability to help patients overcome pain even morphine
couldn't mask. He comforted family members as they said their last good-byes to
loved ones.
I feel so privileged to have been a part of what Jake and the other animals accomplished
in those hospital rooms.
What Jake showed us all is a very simple thing: He worked miracles with his love.
~ May we never underestimate the power of Love ~ It is the place where
Miracles happen ~
~Reprinted from: "Chicken Soup for the Cat & Dog Lover's Soul" and
originally titled "The Therapy Team". Authors: Jack Canfield, Mark
Hansen, Marty Becker, and Carol Kline.~
|
|||
 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
|
 |
 |
 |
|
 |
 |
 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|||
