Therapy Dogs

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Therapy Dogs by Joan Fingar

My involvement with Pet Therapy came as a direct result of Sabrina's and my participation in obedience training. We were enrolled in an obedience class offered by our local school district's continuing education program. I became good friends with one of the other students and, from her, learned about pet therapy. Her husband was a doctor on staff at a local hospital's brain injury unit and she had begun pet visits to this unit. She asked if I would bring Sabrina to visit the patients too, and I quickly agreed. At first I was a bit nervous, given the reputation our Skye Terriers have, but I needn't have worried. Sabrina, sometimes a bit skittish, took to the work as if born to it. She was just the right size to fit on the bed and snuggle or to sit beside a wheel chair where a patient could reach down and pet her. One day, while visiting a young patient who was in a semi-comatose state, I asked Brina to place her front paws up on the bed. I took the patient's hand in mine and began to move it over her coat. The little boy quickly closed his fist around her hair and began to pull. Worried, I pried apart his fingers and tried again... This time he grabbed her ear. I was sure Sabrina would respond unfavourably, perhaps with a growl, and I immediately freed her from his grasp. Much to my surprise, she then leaned over and gave him a kiss on the cheek. So much for the terrier temperament.

I was amazed at the response I got from patients and therapists alike. Sabrina continued her work with the patients and when her litter was born and had completed their shots, I took two of the puppies to visit. I can still picture two chubby puppies toddling down the halls, tails wagging, and all the patients, with huge smiles on their faces, enjoying the sight. Teddy, my boy, soon passed his AKC Canine Good Citizen test and began his work as a therapy dog. His was an entirely different personality, always outgoing and gregarious. If someone happened to overlook him he was quite put out, and made every effort to draw attention to himself. At one point in Teddy's pet therapy career, we met a young boy who had been severely burned and whose face was terribly disfigured. I had not approached this patient because I wasn't sure if he was afraid of dogs and because he always wore the yellow gown and latex gloves which signified the necessity for special precautions. Teddy had other ideas however and one day, as we were waiting for the elevator to take us to the parking garage, the young man and his therapist were sitting in the bank of chairs across from the elevators. Teddy decided it was time to meet and greet the young boy and cautiously went up to him. The boy smiled and reached out his hand.

That was the beginning of a wonderful friendship between Rasheem, Sabrina and Teddy. The opportunity to visit with whichever dog was at the hospital on a given day was often used as a bribe so that Rasheem would complete his school work. The week after I lost Sabrina, Teddy and I visited the hospital. I was devastated by her loss, but a commitment is a commitment, and I knew how much the patients and staff relied on our visits. I had not planned to say anything about Sabrina's death. Rasheem however asked about her and I told him the sad story. He and I discussed the loss and his comment was: "My cousin died and I was sad too."

Both dogs were calm and quiet when at the hospital. It was as if they knew their job and were well prepared to do it properly. After several years of visits to the brain injury unit, I was approached by the Recreational Therapist in charge of the in-patient psychiatric ward. She asked if I would consider bringing the dogs to visit the patients there. At first. I was concerned about the response I would get from the group and, if I were threatened. how the dogs would react. At this point I must make a confession. I have always been uncomfortable with people who suffer from a disability, not because I didn't like them, but because I felt so inadequate, not having the skills to know how to help. Through my experience with pet therapy. I learned that when I took the dogs to visit, I was much more comfortable because all I had to do was facilitate, the dogs did the work. To this day, I continue to visit the psychiatric floor and it is from this group that I receive the greatest response.

Two years ago. we went to Scotland, to the Isle of Skye. and brought home our lovely Miss Tibs (Orasaidh Tibbie Sheils). I began taking her for visits as soon as she had completed her series of shots, at about four months. Even though TDI requires that therapy dogs be one year of age, Tibbie's demeanor was such that I had no doubt she would behave properly. Because therapy work is also a good way to socialize our companions and expose them to all sorts of distractions and new experiences. I thought it was important for her to participate in it. As different as Sabrina and Teddy were. Tibbie is another personality as well. She is very cautious and deliberate in her approach to people. On the psychiatric floor, mats are provided for us to sit on. The patients are invited to join us on the floor and I usually take a brush so they can brush her. She. who is stingy with kisses, always seems to know who needs one and promptly provides it. She has blossomed in the past two years at her job as a therapy dog and in her own way makes a strong impression. Several weeks ago. when we were visiting the brain injury unit, we were going from room to room as we always do. We passed one room where a mattress had been placed on the floor and the patient, a young man. seemed to be asleep. An aide was in the room with him. At first. I continued on to the other rooms in the corridor, but, as we came back, Tibbie paused and poked her head in the doorway. I asked the aide if her patient was still sleeping and she said that she didn't think he would even know if we visited. Tibbie deliberately continued into the room, slowly approached the patient, carefully stepped up on the mattress and laid down along side the patient. I would swear I saw his eye open. We stayed but a few' minutes and then I told Tibbie it was lime to go. She immediately got up and came with me, her job complete.

Our therapy visits are never programmed. We go with the flow. I have been able to impart information on dogs in general and Skyes in particular. We often have very serious and telling discussions. I truly believe that I benefit more from the visits than the patients and feel terribly guilty when people thank me profusely for my time.

Like obedience, pet therapy is a bonding time with my dear companions and shows another side of our wonderful breed.