Occasionally, when I’m at the hospital with one of the dogs, someone will ask, “Do you get paid for this?” Anyone who has worked with a therapy animal will tell you that there’s not enough money to equal the rewards it brings.
There are sudden smiles, expressions of happy surprise. There are hearty thank you’s and very quiet ones. There is the joy of watching the dogs take away someone’s physical or emotional pain, even if only for awhile.
Every patient visit can become a special encounter. Last week at Tarzana Hospital, Stanley and I were asked to see a twelve year old boy on pediatrics. As soon as he laid eyes on Stanley, he got so excited and said, “I thought this only happened on television.”
He had a look of wonder on his face the whole time we were there. He applauded Stanley’s tricks and laughed at his accessories as his delighted parents took photos. At first he was content to have Stanley next to his bed but then decided that he’d really like him up on the bed with him. As he petted and cuddled with Stanley, he reminded his parents how much he wanted a dog and how good he was with them.
The boy was so joyful. He really made the visit fun. That’s why it caught me off guard when his parents shared that he was having surgery in a few hours. I was so grateful that Stanley had been there to lighten the load.
When I was at UCLA, one of the therapists told me that a patient who had been discharged had left something for Gus. It was the same special needs young woman who, when she was in the neuropsych unit a few weeks earlier, had wrapped her arms around Gus and then carried his trading card everywhere with her.
She had written a letter to him. The printing was very difficult to decipher but certain words stood out. I could read, Gus” and “love” and “don’t forget.” She had told the therapist that she wanted to be sure that Gus would always remember her. She had also made him a tiny beaded ring that had the words “Gus” and “love.”
