With all of the stress and anxiety I hear about when talking with people lately, I was moved to share a recent bittersweet but deeply touching encounter. It’s about Charley, my first therapy dog. A gentle giant, he was beside me when I took my initial tentative steps on this journey.
It began as I was walking with Henry on a busy street where they were doing some repair work. We were resting in the shade when a tall man with a grey beard came over to visit. He was casually dressed and wearing a baseball hat but I could see from his vest that he was part of the construction crew.
A dog lover, he was drawn to Henry, who is hard to miss. He told me that he just had to come over to meet him. We immediately bonded and began chatting like old friends about our pets and our families He showed me photos of his 4 dogs and 2 daughters.
Naturally, I told him that Henry, following in his “brothers'” paw prints, was a therapy dog. That’s when the man suddenly began talking about his beloved brother who had died from cancer at only 55. Shortly before his last major surgery, a therapy dog had come to visit and brought so much comfort.
Curious, I asked which hospital and was surprised when he said Tarzana. I inquired about how long ago, and he answered 2010. When I quietly shared that I had been volunteering there at the time with Charley, the man’s face lit up. In the most excited voice, he said “Charley! Oh my God Charley!” With tears in his eyes, the man told me that he still had a photo of Charley with his brother. That’s when I teared up too, knowing that Charley lives on in so many cherished memories.
