Pets and other friends

Hello Dog

noreply@blogger.com (Peggy Haymes) — Sun, 15 Feb 2009 13:59:00 +0000

I'm back to this blog after a long hiatus. For the last eight months my primary focus has been healing and rehabbing after my bike accident.

I wasn't back to normal life yet, but had it in my sights when I got another blow -my mom became ill and died quite suddenly.

When we were talking with the minister about her in preparation for her service, one of the things that we mentioned was that she loved animals. And she did. Years ago I'd rescued a kitten who turned out to have feline leukemia. Since I had two healthy cats, I couldn't take him in.

My mom adopted Charlie, and while his life was short (three years) he was well loved. On days he wasn't doing well, my mom would put aside her to-do list to hold him in her lap for hours at the time.

After Charlie's death, she kept my cats for me when I was out of town. As time passed, it became harder and harder for me to get them back. She tried to convince me that they'd begged to live with her full time.

Finally, for Mother's Day I found a wonderful cat at the shelter. Sitting in the parking lot of the Humane Society, I broached the idea. My mom declared she didn't need a cat. In an underhanded moment, I suggested she "just go in and see the cat."

That was all it took. Little Bit remains a cherished member of the family to this day.

But the pet connection that makes me smile most when I think of her is the one she had with my dog, Oakley. My mom was against my getting a dog. She said I didn't have time for one, the cats didn't want one, there were a hundred reasons not to have one. When I brought my unbelievably cute puppy by her house to introduce to my parents, my mom was working in the yard. I brought Oakley up the hill to meet her.

"Hello dog" she said without enthusiasm.

Oakley became "that dog" to her. I was spending too much time and money on "that dog." I was inconveniencing my elderly cats because of "that dog." I was doing too many obedience training classes with "that dog."

Then I had my accident. I stayed with my folks for three weeks until I was able to go back home. Once home, I was still in a wheelchair for another six weeks or so, so my mom came by each night to check on things and help me out.

Something magical happened between she and Oakley in that time. Maybe she discovered what a fine thing it is to receive the no holds barred, wide open heart welcome of a dog who's glad to see you. Maybe being around her more made my mom see what a gift Oakley is and what a great dog she is.

However it happened, "that dog" became "my buddy." She'd come in telling me how happy Oakley had been to see her drive up. She'd talk baby talk to her and ask if she'd missed her grandmother. She'd rub her head and scratch behind her ears. In short, Oakley got one paw in the door, and that was all it took to find her way into my mom's heart.

What about your pets?

noreply@blogger.com (Peggy Haymes) — Sun, 08 Jun 2008 17:11:00 +0000

As the emergency Room bustled around me, I lay in my bed thinking about everything that needed to be taken care of. Out for a morning bike ride, I'd been hit by car. While my injuries were not as serious as they could have been, I knew that I wouldn't be going home that night.

One of my questions concerned my pets. Who would take care of them? My cats would be easily cared for by family members who could visit my home each day to feed them and clean out their litter trays. But what about Oakley?

Part of my concern was that right now, Oakley functions as a very good guard dog. She takes almost any one's approach to the door as a challenge to be defended. When I'm home, I put her in her crate and she immediately becomes submissive. But we're still working on that part of the training. But who could I trust to pick her up?

I finally hit upon the plan to ask her former trainer, and the owner of the kennel where she boards, to pick her up and keep her. Oakley was glad to see an old friend, and gladly went with her to "camp."

I was lucky to be able to work out something easily. But the experience drove home for me the need to have plans in place. The Humane society urges owners to have a disaster plan in place. However, whenever I've heard this, I've thought of a situation where I would be in charge.

All pet owners should have some kind of plan for what would happen if they were unable to be home or care for their pets.

A postscript to this story - The night before my accident Oakley and I finished our Canine Good Citizen class. One of the things we practiced was walking on a loses leash in a crowd, with distractions. One of those distractions was a wheel chair. Since I'll be in a wheelchair for at least a couple of weeks after Oakley gets home, the timing was perfect!

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noreply@blogger.com (Peggy Haymes) — Mon, 26 May 2008 19:45:00 +0000

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Small signs of hope

noreply@blogger.com (Peggy Haymes) — Mon, 26 May 2008 18:15:00 +0000

As happy as I was when I adopted my puppy, Oakley, my two cats were just as disgusted. They were nearly ten years old and had had a fine run as the only pets in the house.

While living in our previous house, I'd rescued a couple of kittens who'd wandered into my yard, but they were short-timers, off soon enough to their own home (that is, not with us). But this loud, fast-growing DOG was giving every indication that she was moving in for good.

Perhaps I was too careful in the introduction phase. Or perhaps my aging and slightly arthritic cats wouldn't have welcomed an energetic puppy under any circumstances. Regardless, it's not exactly been the peaceable kingdom around here.

Oakley, for her part, has a huge fascination with and unrequited love for the cats. She invites them to play on a regular basis, offering an eager play bow. Her invitations are either met with a cold shoulder (Rosie gets under the bed) or hissing, spitting and an occasional right cross (from Maxie, the alpha cat.)

That's why I was caught off guard the other night. It was bedtime, and I was escorting Oakley into the den. Maxie came out of the bedroom, which she usually does this time of night in order the inform me that it's time to stop playing with that stupid dog and to feed them.

They met in the hallway. Oakley, half-asleep, paused and lowered her head. Maxie, speechless for once in her life, raised a tentative nose to Oakley. They touched noses, then Oakley ambled on towards her bed.

Maybe it's not such a big thing for you. Certainly it doesn't rank up there with the Camp David Middle East peace accords.

But you now, sometimes in life a small moment of hope, just one moment where something shifts and is different, is enough.

You dirty dog, part two

noreply@blogger.com (Peggy Haymes) — Wed, 21 May 2008 13:36:00 +0000

Timing is everything!

I just discovered that Lees Carpets is having a Muddiest Pet contest.

Entries are accepted until June 15. If you think your pet may have what it takes, go here for more info.

Just remember what you'll be going up against!

You dirty dog

noreply@blogger.com (Peggy Haymes) — Mon, 19 May 2008 22:16:00 +0000

Oakley and I had our first visit to our local dog park this past weekend. Walking the long path from the parking lot to the park, Oakley nearly drove herself crazy trying to sniff out everyone who'd come before her. I kept trying to tell her that this wasn't even the best part. She didn't believe me.

We were both a little shy upon entering. I thought Oakley would do well, based on her experience at her kennel, but I wasn't sure. And while I knew she performed her recall perfectly in class, she wasn't always interested in coming in from her backyard. How would she respond when given a big lot to roam?

One of the regulars greeted us, and made us feel at home. Oakley hung around me for a few minutes, but then got over her shyness. She did a trot around the center circle of trees, looking like a dog show champion. Then the fun really started.

She ran with the other dogs and chased a frisbee with them. She greeted newcomers at the gate. She raced another dog with third dog, a hound, baying a running play by play behind them. It brought me such joy to see her so completely be a dog, and a happy one at that.

Like moms at the park, I hung out around the picnic tables and talked with other owners, keeping half an eye on my "kid."Evidently I got distracted for a moment. I heard someone exclaim, "That dog just did a belly flop into the mud puddle." I saw a brown dog streaking through the grass, and wondered whose dog it was.

Then I realized it was mine. My tan and white dog was now a muddy brown all over... except for the great big grin on her face. Then she ecstatically rolled in the dirt.

Once we were home, it took two baths to get her clean, followed by a thorough cleaning of my tub. But her joy was so infectious I couldn't really be upset. We'll be back to the dog park, and hopefully soon. But this time, I'll watch out for the puddles!

This might be the one

noreply@blogger.com (Peggy Haymes) — Fri, 16 May 2008 21:01:00 +0000

She was working the booth across from mine, with beautiful Siberian Huskies serving as very effective attention getters. On the last afternoon I chatted with her as I enjoyed the company of an extremely sweet and loving husky. She told me that she'd gotten into fostering rescues after the death of her own beloved dog. The house didn't seem right without a dog , but her hurting heart wasn't quite ready to form a lifetime bond with another dog quite yet.

This dog was one in a line of several fosters with whom she's shared her home. "This one's special," she said. "there's just something about her." She stroked the dog's head, smiling mostly to herself. "I think this might be the one we keep."

Animals heal us in many ways. Sometimes it's the pet who wriggles their way into our hearts, teaching us how to love and to care again, teaching us that not only can we love again (or for the first time), but we are worthy and capable of receiving love. Sometimes they heal by their steady presence when the rest of our lives is in upheaval. And sometimes they help us heal by nudging us back to life.

Sometimes people who are grieving the loss of a pet volunteer at a shelter or for a rescue group. It's a way of keeping a connection until they are ready to open their homes again.

Why don't you help the people?

noreply@blogger.com (Peggy Haymes) — Mon, 21 Apr 2008 15:56:00 +0000

I've just finished up two days of exhibiting at the Denver Family Pet Expo. While the days were long, it was fun to see lots of dogs and cats and to meet the people who care about them.

Over the next couple of weeks I'll be sharing some stories from the expos along with some pictures... including pictures of dogs and kitten available for adoption!

One of the women I talked with has invested a lot of her time and energy into dog rescue. She said that occasionally people say to her, "Why don't you help people?" Her answer always is, "But I do." She brings joy to the lives of families when they adopt just the perfect family dog from her. She works a lot with senior adult adoptions, both for seniors still living at home and for assisted living centers and nursing homes. She knows how much love and life those animals bring to the lives of those seniors, and she's careful to place dogs that have the right size and temperament for older adults.

I truly believe that we all have our callings, those passions that pull at out hearts. I have so many things that I love and causes that I believe are truly important. However, I only have a limited amount of time, energy and money. So, I have to find the ones that has my name on it.

For my friend at the expo, it was rescuing abused and abandoned dogs, and finding them good homes. For you, it may be building houses through Habitat for Humanity. A couple I know, whose children are long grown, are passionate about the welfare of all of the children in the schools in their city.

The beauty of this life is that if we all are faithful to those callings in our own lives, there will be more than enough hands and hearts to embrace the multitude of needs in this world.

An Engineer's Guide to Cats

noreply@blogger.com (Peggy Haymes) — Thu, 17 Apr 2008 19:51:00 +0000

Just in case you were wondering about the scientific aspect of cat ownership, check out this link:
An Engineer's guide to Cats

Caution: If viewing at work, be prepared to have to try to stifle a few chuckles and perhaps a laugh or two!

Andy's Garden

noreply@blogger.com (Peggy Haymes) — Thu, 17 Apr 2008 18:58:00 +0000

One of the things that I often suggest to people who are grieving the loss of a pet is that they create some kind of memorial as a way of remembering that pet. There's something about having work to do that helps our grief flow through our fingertips. For those of us who love digging in the dirt, there's something healing and therapeutic about that connection with earth. A garden is a lovely way to remember a pet, for the life of the pet is celebrated with the living-ness of the plants and flowers that grow.

My friends David and Teresa have just lost their beautiful white cat, Andy. Here you can read about Andy's memorial garden.

Got an event?

noreply@blogger.com (Peggy Haymes) — Thu, 17 Apr 2008 18:45:00 +0000

It's both good and bad news. Animal rescue groups and humane societies have to get creative to find ways to raise money for their work. The bad news is that they don't have an easy and unlimited stream of money for their important work.

The good news is that the fund raising events that they create can be lots of fun for us!

I'd like to help spread the word. So, if your animal rescue group or humane society has an event coming up, just let me know, and I'll be glad to give you a plug on this blog. You can e-mail me at peggy@petcaring.com.

The number one question

noreply@blogger.com (Peggy Haymes) — Tue, 15 Apr 2008 12:04:00 +0000

My pastor was telling us about a new sermons series he's beginning soon. (His current series is entitled, "Wag More, Bark Less." He's going to have sermons that focus on some of the questions that he's frequently asked. He's starting with the number one question. It's not about any of the "hot button" issues in the church and culture. The number one question he's asked is,

Will my pet be with me in heaven?

It's a testimony to the deep bonds that we form with out pets that death itself doesn't break those bonds. There's a black and white cat in my neighborhood who looks remarkably like the black and white cat of my childhood. Whenever I see him, I feel again all of the love and connection that I shared through the years with Kitty. Like any other family member, our pets stay in our hearts.

I don't know about you, but for me it's a contradiction in terms to think of heaven without animals. How could it even be possible?

**********

I leave tomorrow for Denver. I'll be exhibiting at the Denver Family Pet Expo. Although it can be exhausting work, it's also great fun. There's something wonderful about being around thousands of animal lovers.

If you happen to be in Denver, come by and see me!

************

I'm glad to be getting back to this blog after an injury related "vacation." Walking my dog several weeks ago, I tripped on an uneven spot in the road and sprained my hand, thus limiting my computer time. I occasionally remind my dog that even though my knee was bleeding and my hand was injured, she still got her walk in! She reminds me that she was in no way responsible for the fall, as she was walking politely on a loose leash and I tripped over my own two feet.

(Actually, in the wise way of dogs, she has long ago forgotten about the incident. Dogs can teach us something about letting go and moving on.)

More than a walk

noreply@blogger.com (Peggy Haymes) — Tue, 04 Mar 2008 19:12:00 +0000

I asked Oakley if she wanted to go for a walk the other evening. Her doggy grin spread from ear to ear and her tail nearly wagged off as I picked up her leash. So excited, she confused my command to "sit" with a command to "stand on your hind legs and wave your front paws in the air." Still, she was good about waiting until I gave her the okay to walk out the door.

The first half of the walk is always a bit of struggle, as she wants to go much faster than my short legs can carry me. Up the hill there's a vacant lot frequented by all of the neighborhood dogs. I call it a kind of doggy "My Space." Oakley eagerly checks to see who's been there recently, and leaves a few messages of her own. After she's checked in, she relaxes a little bit.

Sometimes we take the long version. hitting all of the side streets. Sometimes I'm more pressed for time, and we just stay on the main road, about a thirty minute walk. Each time we pass a side street Oakley shoots me a hopeful glance, "Going down there today? Are we? Are we?"

I thought I knew what a walk was about. We both needed the exercise. Oakley needed the stimulation of more smells than a fenced in backyard could provide. And those things are true. But there are other true things as well. Walking together is about bonding together. There's an unspoken companionship that comes from walking side by side. It's like walking with a friend with whom you don't have to say anything to know that she's understood everything. It's the companionship of just hanging out together.

It's not about the destination. After all, we wind up back at our house every single time. Walking with my dog, it's all about the journey.

It's a good lesson to remember.

Odds and Ends

noreply@blogger.com (Peggy Haymes) — Wed, 27 Feb 2008 22:31:00 +0000

Using Your Web... I just found our that our local animal shelter has a page on their web site where you can scan a list of pets reported lost and those who have been reported found. (I was looking up the local licensing requirements, lest rumors start flying.) So, if you have lost a pet or have found a pet, the web site for your local animal shelter might be a good place to start.

By the way, the Forsyth County (NC) Animal Shelter has some awfully cute puppies right now!

Good Citizens... I just sent in the registration form to sign my dog up for her Canine Good Citizen class. Knowing Oakley - and especially knowing me- it will not be our last one. She's a smart dog... sometimes smarter than her owner. Before I started in obedience class, I didn't know what being a Canine Good Citizen meant. I just figured people bought those bumper stickers at the same place they bought the "My Golden retriever is smarter than your honor student" stickers. Then I learned that being a Canine Good Citizen is something a dog earns. To be certified as a Canine Good Citizen, a dog must pass a series of tests. They include staying in a stay while their owners leave the room, allowing someone to brush them, and not reacting (no more than normal curiosity) when strangers comes up to their owners and talk to them. Basically, passing the means that your dog is a trustworthy dog in public. Depending upon your breed, you may be able to get a break on homeowners insurance if your dog is a Canine Good Citizen.

Are you in Denver? (Colorado, not NC)
Then stop by and see me at the Colorado Pet Expo, April 19-20!

Beware the Hybrid

noreply@blogger.com (Peggy Haymes) — Tue, 19 Feb 2008 11:40:00 +0000

More and more car makers are offering hybrid cars. What's not to love? They get great gas mileage and are good for the environment. However, they may not be so good for your dog or cat.

It seems that these engines run so quietly they are a danger to family pets. Dr. Marty Becker read a warning from a spokeswoman from Guide Dogs for the Blind who said that they were now having to teach their dogs to be aware of silent cars and was skeptical. The cars couldn't be THAT quiet.

So, he conducted some of his own research. He drove a hybrid into his own driveway. His cat, asleep in the garage, usually jumps up when she hears the approaching car. This time she didn't budge until the car was nearly upon her and Dr. Backer honked the horn. You can read more about it on Dr. Becker's blog, dogcars, which reviews "pet friendly" cars.

If you drive a hybrid and have a dog or a cat who goes outside, pay extra attention when you start up your car or come back home. Don't assume that your dog or cat will hear you and get out of the way.

Best in breed

noreply@blogger.com (Peggy Haymes) — Wed, 13 Feb 2008 13:56:00 +0000

So the Westminster dog Show is over, and the big headline is that a beagle finally beat the odds and was named best in show. I didn't get to see the finals last night, but I understand that after Uno, the beagle, took his victory lap he threw back his head and brayed in exultation.

I enjoy watching the dog shows and learning about various breeds. Of course, if someone asks my opinion about a breed, I'll probably do my best to talk them into considering adopting a mutt, preferably a rescue. Oakley, pictured with me on this blog, is a rescue mutt herself.

However, for various reasons, sometimes people are sold on getting a dog from a breeder. If you're thinking about doing that, do your homework.

First of all, do your homework on the dog. Some dogs are high energy, and if you don't give them enough work they will repay you by destroying your house.

Secondly, do your homework on the breeder. In one of my obedience classes we had a very sad case of a golden retriever who came from a breeder in the area. The dog was beautiful and sweet as she could be. Unfortunately, at two years old she was already showing signs of hip problems and had a heart defect that was going to limit her life to only a few years. The breeder had seemed reputable. the grounds were immaculate - it wasn't a dirty backyard filled with rusty cages. But when the owner started sharing her experience with our obedience class, it turns out that this breeder was well-known in the dog training community for producing beautiful but defective dogs, dogs with lots of health problems and shorter lifespans.

If you are considering buying from a breeder, check out the dog training clubs in the area. They may know whether or not the breeder is responsible in protecting the bloodline.

It had to come to this

noreply@blogger.com (Peggy Haymes) — Mon, 11 Feb 2008 17:24:00 +0000

Have you ever played the game, what word does not belong with the other? I thought USA Today was running one of those games when I saw the headline about cat agility contests.

As you may know, agility contests for dogs involve a dog running a timed course that includes jumps, tunnels and weave poles. I hope one day to have my dog at the level of obedience needed for agility training.

However, obedience training is something not usually associated with cats. While stories occasionally pop up about a cat who fetches things or has been trained to use the toilet, living with a cat is less about obedience than mutual negotiation. You let me sleep on your bed. I will let you live through the night. But according to an article in the January 29, 2008 issue of USA Today ("Here Kitty, jump though the hoop") cat agility trials are a growing movement.

The training process is different with cats than dogs. Cats have to be persuaded that it's something they want to do, instead of told it's something they must do. Evidently, for some cats something inside clicks and they perform brilliantly.

For others, not so much. Cats have been known to stop in the middle of the course to take a bath. One cat became known as "Perimeter Cat" because every time he ran the course, he avoided all of the obstacles, walking around them. It was best summed up by Bengel cat breeder Ree Hertzson: "Some of the cats finished in two minutes, some didn't finish at all, some got distracted in the middle and went off on their own adventures. And the Persians would stop after a few seconds and lie around looking pretty."

For more info, visit www.catagility.com.

From the mouths of children

noreply@blogger.com (Peggy Haymes) — Fri, 25 Jan 2008 20:30:00 +0000

This week I spoke to a church group about the many benefits that pets bring to our lives, the roles they play in our lives and how to deal with losing them.

At the beginning of the program, there were several school-aged children sitting with their families around the dinner table. Since I was beginning my talk with the benefits of pets for children, I had my own resident experts.

Each child there had a pet. I asked them one thing they loved about their pets. One boy said proudly that his dog could catch a frisbee and even catch his boomerang. (This was the boy who was advocating for a pet talent show during the announcements.) Another boy said he liked petting his cats and he could pick them up and carry them.

Two sisters raised their hands. "I'm not sure I can talk about it," one said. When a child says something like that in a public forum, I'm always a little hesitant to follow up. You just never know what can of worms you're opening!

But I took the chance and asked why. "Because we have 12 of them." I suggested that she not go through each pet, but just tell me in general. She said they were good company.

Pets are good medicine for children. A child exposed to pets in his or her first year is less likely to develop allergies or asthma. Autistic children with pets show less autistic behavior. Pets may enhance a child's cognitive development. Pets help children to become more nurturing, which, in turn, helps them to become more nurturing adults.

Routines

noreply@blogger.com (Peggy Haymes) — Sun, 20 Jan 2008 13:47:00 +0000

Since moving into this house a couple of years ago, the cats and I have settled into our nightly routine. I generally read for at least a few minutes before going to sleep. Rosie takes her place in between me and the book, often providing a free arm massage before she settles down. Maxie taps me on the back to let me know she's there, then curls up against me, resting her head on my arm. For some unknown reason, Rosie interprets my turning off the light as her signal to move, either hopping off the bed or moving down to the foot.

We all develop routines with our pets. Feeding them. Grooming them. Walking them. Playing with them. In one study reported by the Delta Society, in families where someone was battling a serious illness, pet care wasn't seen as an additional care giving burden. There was a comfort in the routine of it. It was nice to have something that hadn't changed.

That's one of the things that can make losing a pet so hard. Suddenly, there's a great big hole in our daily routines. My house never felt so empty as when there was no animal to greet me when I came home from work.

member of the family?

noreply@blogger.com (Peggy Haymes) — Wed, 14 Nov 2007 16:35:00 +0000

I was reading someone's blog the other day (sorry that I didn't make a note of which one it was). He had a beef for the people who called pets member of their family. He said they could be like members of the family, but since they were animals and not people, they could never qualify as family members.

I agree with one small aspect of his point. Our pets are animals, not little people dressed in fur coats. Many a cat or dog (along with their owners) has wound up frustrated and unhappy because their owner expected them to react as a person would, not like an animal. If you want proof of this, find some pictures on the Internet of cats dressed up in funny costumes. By the expressions on the cats' faces, I worry that their owners may be killed in the night.

However, I don't agree that the grief over losing a pet isn't - and shouldn't be - as deep and as profound as a human loss. We have different levels of connection in our relationships. A cousin whom I've seen only once every four or five years, with whom I've never been close, may die, and I would be sad. (Note to my family members who may be reading this - this is hypothetical and I really don't have anyone in mind.) I would be sad, but it wouldn't dominate my day.

I would feel differently if one of my cats or my dog died. Not because I value an animal's life more than a human's, but because they are an intimate part of my world. I interact with them day in and day out. I do the daily tasks of care giving for them, and they share with me love, affection and companionship. They are not like members of my family. They ARE members of my family.

To say this doesn't mean that there aren't people in my life whose death I would grieve much more deeply than any one of my pets. It's not an either/or - it's a continuum. A thousand different factors affect the shape of that continuum. A family pet who plays with young children plays a much different role than the pet who comes to make an empty nest a little less empty.

There are all kinds of families. There are genetic families that we are born into. There are families that we marry into and create together, marked by legal bond. Then there are heart families, made up of friends whom we adopt into our circle of close companions. In the last kind of family, there may be dogs and cats and birds and horses.

The Blessing of the animals

noreply@blogger.com (Peggy Haymes) — Mon, 12 Nov 2007 18:53:00 +0000

I don't remember the name of the writer who told the story, but she wrote about her first experience with a service of the blessing of the animals.

She went and was terribly disappointed to find a priest giving blessings to people's pets. Based on her experiences of the animals in her life, she'd envisioned the animals lined up at the front of the church, giving their blessing to the people who passed by!

We have a video that celebrates some of the blessings that our animals bring to us.

You can view it on YouTube:
The Blessing of the Animals

That’s Why I’m Here

noreply@blogger.com (Peggy Haymes) — Fri, 09 Nov 2007 19:17:00 +0000

Today's story comes by way of
"For the Love of the Dog"
If the link doesn't work for you, copy and paste in your browser: http://petloverstips.com/ForTheLoveoftheDog/

My children have always been involved in 4-H. Heavily into the animal divisions, with a few other projects, they took their county fair presentations very seriously. I was a professional dog trainer and handler, and one year, my two youngest children entered our registered dogs in the Beginner Obedience class. My fourteen-year-old son, Jeremy, wanted to do something with the dogs too, but he was very independent and didn’t want something that everyone else was doing. He came to me in the spring, several months before the fair and said, “I’ve decided to make my dog project count.” He proceeded to show me his detailed plan for his Citizenship project, providing canine therapy dog visits to local nursing homes.

In the north central portion of Minnesota where we lived, this was an unheard of concept. Jeremy told me he had already done some of the legwork by asking his brother, sister, and two members of the 4-H club to come along and assist. What he needed from me most was to choose the appropriate dogs and teach the handlers how to present a dog to an elderly and perhaps bedridden person. We contacted several nursing homes and finally found one that agreed to allow our therapy dogs to visit. Jeremy called his buddy 4-H’ers and set up a training schedule. When all five kids were comfortable presenting the dogs, we made an appointment with the nursing home.

The first day we visited, I went along as the driver, photographer, and supervisor. We went from room to room, sharing our smaller trained therapy dogs and puppies with as many as possible. Each child carried a dog and a towel to place on the bed in case someone wanted the dog there. We were a hit! The joy these folks exhibited was genuine and wonderful. They all asked us to visit again.

On our next outings, we left earlier so we could visit more residents. Jeremy enjoyed watching people’s faces light up as we entered a room, but there seemed to be something disturbing him. I asked if he was having a problem with the project. He became solemn. “I love coming here, but I want to make an even bigger difference. I’m not sure how, but I know there is something more I can do.”

Each time we visited, the residents anticipated it with greater enthusiasm. Some even had family members bring in photos of their own dogs to share with us. We listened to stories about their pets, their families, and their lives when they were young. Each sat constantly petting one of the dogs, gaining the comfort and unconditional love only an animal can give so freely.

One day we ventured into an area we hadn’t been to before. As a nurse’s aide led the way, we came upon several rooms that were quieter than most and not decorated. The aide motioned for us to continue following her to the residents who requested visits further down the hall. Jeremy stopped and peered into one of the rooms. The aide reprimanded, “There is no use going into that room; that lady hasn’t moved or spoken in months. She is unresponsive and pretty much alone.”

Jeremy looked at her and then at the French bulldog he held in his arms. Calmly he replied, “That’s why I am here.” He proceeded into the room and stood hesitantly. The woman was ghostly white and showed no signs of life. She lay prone and didn’t move so much as her eyes when we entered. Jeremy took a deep breath and moved to the side of the bed. “My name is Jeremy and I am here with my therapy dogs. I brought a dog to see you. Since you can’t come to see the dog, I’d like to place it on your bed. I have a towel, so no hair will get on your blankets.”

The woman did not move. Jeremy looked to me for approval. I nodded. He moved to the side of the bed where her arm was exposed and placed the towel on the bedspread. While all this was happening, the aide left to get a nurse. By the time Jeremy was ready to put the dog beside the woman, two nurses and the aide were in the doorway. As one began to tell me we were wasting our time, I raised my hand to silence her. She huffed, but remained quiet.

Jeremy placed the dog against the woman’s arm. He spoke softly, “She won’t hurt you. She came here just to see you.” As he spoke, the woman’s head shifted slightly. The glaze in her eyes seemed to disappear. Jeremy allowed the dog to nestle in close. The woman raised a weak arm and placed it on the dog’s back. Although she had no words, she began to make sounds. Tears brimmed her eyes as she moved her hand along the hair. The nurses rushed to the bedside and began pressing the nurse call button. More people rushed into the room. There was not a dry eye in the group. Jeremy looked at the aide and reiterated, “This is why I am here.” Then he looked at me, tears flowing unashamedly down his face and he said, “I made a difference.” I hugged him and acknowledged that he certainly had. When it was time to leave, Jeremy gathered up the dog and the towel and said to the woman, “Thanks for letting us come into your room and into your life.” She smiled at him and touched his arm.

Jeremy received the highest award for his Citizenship project, and went on to the state level where he earned Grand Champion. But for Jeremy, the ribbons were nothing compared to his biggest award: the touch of a hand and the smile from a woman who was said to be a waste of time.

Going to the dogs

noreply@blogger.com (Peggy Haymes) — Fri, 09 Nov 2007 12:58:00 +0000

My church has been going to the dogs lately. One of our members has a new service dog that accompanies her every Sunday. The dog barked his "amens" the first couple of weeks. He whined and whimpered for a couple more, but seems to be settling in.

(One church member joked, "If he doesn't want to be here, he should just stay home. If not, he should shut up and suffer in silence like the rest of us.")

We've had animals in before, mostly as a part of the children's sermon. The pastor brought his new puppy one Sunday, and another woman brought her goat. Live animals are a sure way to get the kids' attention.

But I have to admit that there's something nice about having a dog in there every Sunday. He reminds us that there are a lot of creatures in God's creation - not just us. Owning a pet has always been a source of amazement for me. How can it be that I can bring this animal into my home - this creature who in so many ways is so different from me - and yet we can form very real and very deep bonds.

Some times my pets seem so familiar, so like me. And some times they are so very different. (Butt sniffing has never been my preferred greeting.) With a pet, those difference are a source of curiosity, wonder and appreciation.

What a world it would be if we could feel that way about each other.

Laughter

noreply@blogger.com (Peggy Haymes) — Wed, 07 Nov 2007 18:23:00 +0000

One of the benefits of owning pets is that they bring a lot of laughter into our lives. Perhaps I shouldn't, but I have to laugh every time the doorbell rings on the radio and Oakley goes running to the back door, a confused look on her face because I'm not answering it.

Comedian Natalie Gray understands this. I stumbled across her wonderful bit of stand-up about her pets on MySpace. Enjoy!

Natalie Gray on her pets.

In an earlier post I shared some of the reasons why pets are good for kids. Here's the visual evidence.

Why Kids Need Pets

The rest of the story

noreply@blogger.com (Peggy Haymes) — Mon, 05 Nov 2007 18:09:00 +0000

Many of you have already seen the video of the dog who, along with his owner, dances to "You're the One That I Want" from Grease. If you haven't seen it yet, here's the link: Carolyn Scott and Rookie

In doing a little searching for more about this pair, I came across an unexpected part of the story. According to the web site, wetnoodleposse, Scott was an experienced dog trainer when Rookie came into her life. He was full of energy and easily distracted (hmmmm.... sounds like a certain dog I know) - not a good match for the command following demands of obedience or agility. He was also sometimes fearful and overly submissive (hmmm... overly submissive is definitely not like a dog I know!) But she stumbled upon dancing, and, as they say in the movies, a star was born. As he performed, his confidence grew.

But there's also more to Scott's story. She had polio as a four year old. As a result, one leg is weaker and shorter than the other. As Kiki Clark writes:

In the days before canine freestyle, fear of falling down haunted Scott's performances in obedience trials. But as she and Rookie competed and taught freestyle across the country, the response from audiences convinced Scott that spreading the word was worth the risk of occasional public discomfiture. There was something about dancing with a dog that inspired people to seek a deeper relationship with their companion animals - to see them as partners rather than pets. (Carolyn Scott Trips the Light Fantastic By Kiki Clark)

It's one of the wonderful things about pets. We take them into our lives and work with them, thinking that we're going to be helping them out. Along the way to helping them, we are healed as well.