At Work

James was back making his usual Thursday rounds at the nursing home. He seemed extra energetic today, so after making his way through the physical therapy room, down around one wing of the first floor and up to the second floor, we finished off visiting several folks on the other wing of the first floor.

I always watch to see if James wants to keep going. Once in a while, he has an off day where I can pretty much tell he’d rather not visit at all (after all, people get like that sometimes, too).  In these rare cases, we might make a couple of quick visits to key people, then leave.  Other times, after we’ve been visiting awhile, he’ll start turning his head away from people – rather than toward them – and look up at me, as much as to say, I’m ready to leave now.  It’s very important to watch for these signs and respond appropriately.  Ignoring them, could turn even the best of therapy dogs off of visiting completely.  I feel dogs are a lot like people in this respect – just needing to take a break and come back another time.

Today, I received several requests from therapists to stop in to visit specific people – so, I kept a careful watch on James. He showed all the signs of being a happy fellow – tail wagging, head moving forward to engage with the patients.  When James is happy, he literally has a smile on his face.  So, on we went for an extra long time.

I offer therapy dog training workshops – both beginner and advanced – at The Collared Scholar in Northampton, MA. It’s a great training facility.  I love the space – not too large, not too small.  The floor is covered completely with a matt-like surface – no slipping problems for the dogs.  And, the acoustics are great so no one has a problem hearing.  This past Sunday, I had a terrific class of beginners.  All the dogs and owners showed great potential and most plan to register for the upcoming advanced class.

I really enjoy teaching people the skills and techniques I’ve acquired over my 19 years of visiting. It’s such a fun class to teach – everyone gets involved interacting with various types of equipment you’d find when visiting a healthcare facility.  We set up mock scenarios and work through them with the dogs.  James comes to the beginner workshop, dressed in his therapy dog vest and ID badge.  He’s a great model – and enjoys every minute of it!  What a sport!

The advanced workshop builds on the skills and techniques taught in the beginner class, introducing more advanced techniques and setting up more complicated scenarios to work through.  The focus of a visit is making it possible for the patient to pet or feel the dog’s soft fur and to promote movement and conversation.  Participants leave the class with the skills needed to make this happen – and have learned that both ends of the leash are at work while visiting.

After participating in both workshops, dog and owner are well-prepared and ready to be evaluated as a therapy dog team, and, hopefully, will become members of Bright Spot Therapy Dogs, Inc. We’re always looking for more volunteers to service the growing number of facilities throughout Western Massachusetts requesting our services.

It happens a couple of times each winter… many of the residents come down with illness all at the same time.  They, therefore, ask that folks not visit unless absolutely necessary to curb the spread of infection.  James enjoyed a good romp in the back field instead!

When I teach folks who are interested in having their dogs become therapy dogs, I always tell them that doing therapy dog visiting is just like doing any other job… you keep on learning.  And, so it is with dogs.  They evolve into better and better therapy dogs with each and every visit.

Five of my dogs have been therapy dogs over the past 19 years.  Three of them have not. Of those who were therapy dogs, only one – Beatrice – my first therapy dog, was a natural at the job right from the first visit.  This is pretty rare – and I’m thankful that Beatrice was such a dog…  she is the dog responsible for launching my passion.  Each one of my other dogs has evolved into their role – improving their technique with each visit.  Personality wise, each of my therapy dogs was very different; each in their own way, great visitors – loved by those they visited each week.

Currently, James is my only visiting dog – since his sister Julia died last November. He never ceases to amaze me – and fill me with pride.  Yesterday’s visit to our local nursing home was no exception.  In fact, he outdid himself.  He was in rare form…  first making the rounds of the physical therapy room:  greeting each person receiving therapy with his tail wagging;  positioning himself just-so to be petted on his head or ears or his back.  Around the room he went – his head held high, a smile on his face, and a tinkle in his eye.  Everyone asked to pet him again – and around he went a second time.

From there, we take the elevator upstairs to visit our Alzheimer patient, Constance. Here we spend about half an hour.  Constance is very sad and confused, and refuses to get out of bed or interact with anyone.  James changes all of that when he gently sits or lies down on her bed.  Yesterday – as he carefully positioned himself to lie down next to her… he placed his forelegs around her as in a hugging position and placed his head down on her chest.  Constance smiled and said,  James is my friend.  James loves me.  This was truly a magical sight.  This dog was so in tune to her sadness and need for comfort.  He knew just what to do – and did it ever-so- gently.  He just lay there in that position.  And, Constance kept smiling.  He never ceases to amaze me.  He is a remarkable dog.

James didn’t start out this way.  He’s been visiting now for four years and he’s ten years old.  He just keeps getting better and better.

Like any death, expected or not, it’s always sad. Today, I received the call I’ve received before.  The call to inform me that our patient had died.  Wednesday is the day we have visited her each week for the past seven months.  We were preparing to head out for our visit when the call came in.

I certainly was not surprised that I was getting the call. In fact, as soon as I heard the volunteer director’s voice, I knew why she was calling.  Her time had come.  She had fought a very long, hard battle.  The last several weeks had been very painful for her.  But, through it all, she smiled at seeing James appear in the doorway of her room.  Clearly, she received comfort in having him lie close to her as she lay, unable to move, in her bed.

She was the lady who on our first meeting gruffly announced, I only like cats! Then, grew to look forward to her boyfriend James – as she called him – coming to visit her each week.   At the end of last week’s visit (which was the last time we would see her), she took my hand and said, I will be better next week. She surely is better now…  I’m glad for her that she is now at rest and free of pain.  She was a tough cookie who wouldn’t let too many people get through her hardened exterior.  I’m thankful that James and I were among the few she let in – and that the visits from her only dog friend brought her joy.  We will miss her…

Now, we wait for a different call…  a call from the volunteer director telling us that there is a new hospice patient who would love a visit from a dog.  James will be ready to go…

After last week’s visit, I fully expected to receive a call from the facility telling me that my patient had died. But, having received no call, James (decked out in his therapy dog vest and ID) and I got in the car and headed to the interstate to drive down south to the Connecticut border where we make our weekly hospice visits.

Our patient appeared quite agitated when we arrived at her door. She was trying to communicate something to me – but was unable to speak.  She tried to raise her right arm, her finger pointing to the door, as she again tried to speak.  Unfortunately, I was unable to understand what she was trying to tell me.  She was becoming frustrated and sad…  I asked her if she wanted us to go – but she shook her head, No.  More frustration ensued.  I felt helpless, not knowing what to say or do.

Seeing plenty of space on the bed for James to lie down next to her, I directed him to get up and gently position himself alongside her. He couldn’t settle down – so unusual for James.  He then started sniffing, and sniffing.  Since her food tray was still in the room when we arrived, I assumed he was sniffing out spilled food – which I mentioned to our patient…  but she kept shaking her head – then mouthing, No.  Suddenly, it dawned on me that she might need to be changed…  I asked her if this was the case.  She nodded, Yes.

Realizing what was going on, I said, I’ll take James off your bed and ask an aid to come in to help.  She again nodded, Yes,  and then seemed to relax…  When the aid came in, I said what I always say when we leave:  James and I will see you next week.  I don’t know how she was able to do it, but somehow she mustered the strength to reach out and take my hand – then, somehow found her voice to softly say, I’m sorry, I’ll be better next time.

When individuals enter a nursing home, they lose their independence and are stripped of their dignity as the passing days go by. A woman I have been visiting at another nursing home for 18 years, dreads Thursdays because it’s shower day when an aid wheels her into the shower room and gives her a shower.  She is a very proud and modest person and finds this extremely embarrassing.  It’s important to extend to these folks any possible opportunity to allow them a semblance of these elements that they have lost.  I wish I had been able to read meaning into my patient’s initial frustration and avoided having her be embarrassed.  The purpose of our visit is to bring comfort and alleviate sadness – not the opposite.  This is tough…  the journey taken with each of my hospice patients has been so different…

Annie is like a joyful, carefree youngster with a very independent spirit.  You go one way, she wants to go the other. Today, we met our trainer in the park again – but we changed the day to Sunday, the busiest day in the park.  Lots of people, people walking dogs, and cars – and also a flock of ducks in the pond.  Our objectives were twofold:  to work on her fear of meeting up with strange dogs and to train her to walk by our side on a loose lead.

Through the repetition of meeting up with several dogs and their owners along the way, she is making headway on being less fearful.  A giant step, indeed. But, as far as walking by our side on a loose lead goes…  it was simply a tug-of-war the entire way around the park.  Our training tactic is to stop in place and stand like a tree when Annie pulls on the lead.  When she loosens up on the lead, we start walking again.  This is a common training technique.  After a while, supposedly, the dog starts to realize that she can keep walking ahead as long as the lead remains loose…  so she starts to respond appropriately.  Not Annie, however.  We began to see that Annie was enjoying the stops…  she’d look around, checking things out; her nose working the entire time.  (Annie, being an English Setter, is a Sporting Dog that hunts with her nose – and Annie has a very strong nose).  So, indeed, it appeared to us that she was simply enjoying the go-stop, go-stop, go-stop walk all around the park.

When we had finished and were back to our cars, our trainer suggested that next lesson we drop back on the distractions. The loose lead walking needs to be isolated – to be worked on all on its own.  Working on this inside our house, Annie is spot-on… there are absolutely no distractions – and she loves the work of training.  So, our plan is to move out of the house, onto the road, walking just a short distance in front of the house.  In addition, we will try a martingale collar, thus adding a bit more control, as opposed to the regular snap collar.

I must admit, I felt quite discouraged during the lesson – but after analyzing what we had been doing, then breaking it down and coming up with a plan of action, I felt more positive. Annie is a tough little cookie…  It’s definitely not easy… but we will get there… baby steps all the way!

Jane and Gabby chat with one of the residents

I first met Jane and her dog Gabby when they attended a beginners therapy dog workshop I was conducting – and then they returned to attend my advanced therapy dog workshop a month later.  Thing is…  I’m in Western Massachusetts and Jane and Gabby live in Peru, Maine!  I felt honored that they had read about my experience working with therapy dogs and decided to make the trek down south – in the middle of winter – to learn the skills and techniques used in therapy dog visiting.

Jane is a certified dog trainer and knows full well the importance of training your dog to become a happy, well-adjusted member of the family. Jane’s Gabby is 8 years old; a wire-haired fox terrier/mix; and needless to say, beautifully trained.  Jane has wanted to do therapy dog work with Gabby – and knew that pursuing instruction was the route to go in order to be well-prepared.

One year after attending my workshops – having practiced the skills and techniques they had been taught – Jane applied to become a member of Bright Spot Therapy Dogs, Inc. Friday was the day set for Gabby’s evaluation – and in order to arrive at the test facility for their 10:00 AM appointment, they left their home in Peru, Maine at 4:00 AM!  I arrived at the nursing home where we hold evaluations 10 minutes early – and there they were waiting for me (and I just had a 7 minutes drive!).

Jane and Gabby employed all the skills they had learned in both workshops – Gabby, wagging her tail as she strode down the corridors right by Jane’s side, on a loose lead.  They’d stop when they came to a resident – Jane asking each one if they’d like to pet her dog Gabby; then, picking Gabby up in her arms, Jane held her at just the right level for the resident to pet her and talk to her.  Jane chatted with the folks, as well.  Both dog and owner were relaxed and enjoying their work.  Gabby rode the elevator without blinking an eye; then we went into a resident’s room where Jane gently placed Gabby on the person’s bed so Gabby could snuggle up close.  The evaluation ran a little extra long…  everyone wanted to have a chance to visit with Gabby – and, one thing I tell folks in training is that you never want to leave anyone out – so Gabby happily accommodated the crowd!

Gabby giving a kiss...

The well-trained, well-prepared team of Jane and Gabby passed the evaluation with high honors. Bright Spot Therapy Dogs now has a superb new therapy dog team on-board – and Jane and Gabby will have many wonderful years ahead bringing comfort and caring to the folks they visit back in their hometown of Peru, Maine.

Jane has become a wonderful friend.  Someone I can talk “dog talk” to with the click of the send button on my email.

Using techniques Patricia McConnell writes about in her book titled The Cautious Canine and suggestions given to us by Jenn, our trainer, I’ve totally redesigned our weekly trip to the library.

As McConnell writes in her book, I analyzed the entire experience of going to the library with Annie and how it has always ended up being a scary experience for her. The idea being to determine at what point she starts to become fearful and work back from that point to a point that feels very safe to her.  It sounds like it should be a simple thing to take a dog into the library, but for a dog who is afraid of new places, sounds, and people, it’s a real challenge to be worked through.

I started by retracing my steps:

1) getting in the car for a ride to the library – Happy

2) getting out of the car in the library parking lot – Happy

3) walking down the path to the front door of the library – Happy

4) opening the large, heavy and noisy front entrance door to go in – Unhappy

5) heading over to the circulation desk to return books – Fear

6) beyond the circulation desk – More Fear

So – following Patricia McConnell’s advice, we followed steps 1-3.  Happy, Happy, Happy. And ended it there at the front door getting lots of her favorite treats.  As Jenn always tells us to do…  we ended on a Happy note.  Annie gleefully walked by my side back to the car, where I threw a handful of treats onto the back seat for her to enjoy on the ride home.

Working with a fearful dog is a first for me.  I love Annie and know that with patience and understanding – and help from our professional trainer – we can conquer her fears. I look at how far she has come already – and I am amazed!  Now, this has all happened at a very slow rate – but it has happened.  Like – she used to HATE going in the car.  She actually would run and hide in her crate.  Now, she loves it!  All will come in due time.  And, it will be well-worth the effort.