I, in no way, want to steal any thunder from or try to upstage my good friend and fellow staff member Nicole Hamrick who is writing a book full of dawg stories. But, I have a couple of my own. Specifically I would like to call to mind dogs that have been helpful to me in times of difficulty and crisis… “therapy dawgs”. I am a dog lover and have a list of great dogs in my history starting with Sandy the cocker spaniel as a child up until today with Raney the dog who can’t control herself around squirrels, children, and Billy Asis. She despises squirrels, loves children, and thinks Billy is another canine buddy.
Well anyway I was going to talk about therapy dawgs. They are all therapeutic in my humble opinion but two come to mind pertaining to recent days and the current crisis.
First, there’s Rhonda, a large, no, extremely large Mastiff I met at hospice of Spartanburg. She rumbled through the front doors of the institution and made her way towards me. It was love at first sight. Rhonda worked her way toward me and as I spoke there was a certain chemistry… a connection. I extended my hand toward this beautiful brown pooch only to have a gently lick to my hand and eventually my face. Then she slowly decided I needed a little extra care. So Rhonda decided to decrease our proximity as she made her way to the chair I was in and then to my lap. I was eyeball to eyeball with one hundred and fifty pounds of Mastiff and there was love and compassion in these eyes and plenty of slobber around the edges of her mouth. Sounds nasty doesn’t it? But it was just what I needed. Because you see, my father had just checked into the facility and he died three days later. Rhonda was Godsend.
And then there’s Nick Petty… he is my Corona virus canine. He allows Wilma Petty to bring him to the church occasionally. Nick’s therapy is making the pastor feel not just appreciated but indispensable. When Nick shows up I immediately make my way to his vehicle where he awaits the return of his momma, Wilma Petty. When I rouse him from his sleep he’s never angry or mean spirited. When he gets out of the car the tail wags, the teeth gleam, and the tongue is fully extended as he kind of walks on his tip toes. This is Nick’s way of saying… Reverend Oliver, I like you! Nick, I like you too.
I will leave it to Nicole and her upcoming bestseller to give you all the lessons we can learn from dawgs. So I will say they love unconditionally and they seem to know how we feel and how to respond to the needs of another human. Perhaps in a world that is hectic and quite troubling at times we can learn something from “going to the dogs” and how to treat humans.
Andy O.