Summer

Rebecca and Summer

Summer and Michael met on a Sunday evening. We were completing our monthly therapy visit at a local hospital. Monthly visits always ended with a visit to the emergency room. As we were entering the ER doors a man asked "What are these dogs?." Being used to this question, I explained that the dogs are therapy dogs, here to visit patients, ease their pain, and to provide comfort. The man explained that his son was at the ER because of a dog bite attack from a dog he knew. He explained that his son was traumatized, had been hyper-ventilating, and was in a lot of pain. We stated that we understood and would avoid his son's room. I offered my deepest sympathy to them and started to go on my way. At the last minute I stated that if his son saw us in the hall and requested to see us we would be more then happy to take time and visit with him. As we entered the doors to the ER we parted ways, but before we could start visiting he started waving our way and said that his son wanted to see us. As Summer and I entered the room the young boy smiled brightly when we entered despite the dried tears on his face. Summer could barely reach Michael with the raised bed, but stretched her nose up to reach his hand. Michael's father stood nearby holding his son's hand with a look of awe at his child's courage, as he appeared to heal internally after such traumatic injury. The doctor began to prepare Michael for the pain of a numbing injection so that they could begin suturing him up. As they asked him to roll his leg to the side he yelled in agony. Tears once again began to run down his face. As he tried to deal with the pain, Summer loyally stayed by his side and continued to push her nose into his hand as he gripped the metal bars. Summer continued to be a distraction to him as the suturing of his wounds began. As Michael reacted to the pain, Summer insisted on staying close to the bed. As we prepared to go visit other patients, Michael's face showed disappointment. Summer and I offered to remain by his side, but he bravely told her to visit with others. We promised to come back. When we returned to the room, the doctor was placing the last of the eleven stitches required and informed Michael that he would need crutches. Summer placed herself again at her new friend's side and despite difficulty with her rear hips she placed her front feet on the bed rail so could be reached easily without him needing to roll his leg and twist his body. As we left the room I praised Michael for his courage, and thanked him for opening his heart. Michael's spirit was contagious, after suffering a traumatic event he immediately opened his heart past the fear. Despite his pain, Michael smiled every time Summer's wet nose touched his hand. His gratitude for our visit, his family's genuine awe at their son's courage, and the beautiful smile from a ten year old boy left me honored to be in his presence. Summer and I were grateful for the opportunity to visit with Michael and his family. There was a new understanding of Summer not being "just a dog", but a therapy dog who could bring comfort, healing power, renewed trust, and joy to those she interacted with. Meeting Michael and his family was a reminder of why I began training Summer four years ago and why I believe so strongly in the use of therapy animals. As we left the hospital and walked to the car I reached down and with tears in her eyes and told her how proud she had made me that day and how special she was to those lives she had touched.