The Accidental Pet Therapy Mom: From One to Many

According to the paperwork, I “rescued” my beagle Emma from a shelter in Franklin, TN, where she had been relinquished by her owners. Through the mercy of a rescue organization that ran a transport to the Northeast twice monthly, Emma and I met at an I-95 rest stop in southern Connecticut. Other dogs were being placed in their forever homes or with foster families, while others were traveling a bit further upstate to meet their new families. But I digress… 

All those who know me also know that Emma truly rescued me. She came to me after the tragic death of my husband, at the hands of a hit-and-run driver, and the loss of my 16-year-old Australian Shepherd, Pudge. There was a hole in my heart that needed to be filled, so I took to the internet in search of a rescue dog. 

Emma was born to be a therapy dog. Her effects on me were instant and obvious; she helped filled a void and loneliness in my life. 

But it was more than two years later, when I met my husband-to-be (also thanks to the internet!), that I first heard of the practice of therapy dogs. He spent his entire career as a recreational therapist in a leading New York rehabilitation hospital and was well-aware of the use of therapy dogs in hospital settings. He knew from the moment he first met Emma that she had the personality, sweet nature, and calm demeanor that therapy dogs need. 

Another two years pass, we marry, and retire to Charleston, where I was born and raised. We took Emma through the therapy dog certification process and spent a year visiting seniors at a nearby assisted living facility and students at local colleges. It was through meeting other pet therapy dog owners that we learned of the program at the Medical University of South Carolina and knew we wanted to be a part of it. 

After a year with seniors, including weekly visits to a memory loss unit, we asked to be placed in the Children’s Hospital. So every Friday, we three end our week visiting children, their family members, visitors, and staff members. It is such a rewarding way to end the week – knowing that we are ending our week by giving something back. 

Every single week is special; every child we visit is special. Emma loves all equally, even the parents. Very recently, a young man was sound asleep after extensive orthopedic surgery, but his mother was so happy to have a visit from Emma. She came out in the hall, sat on the floor, and spent at least 20 minutes chatting, petting, talking about dogs, children, family, and more. Emma truly was her therapist. 

But perhaps one recent scenario stands out most in my mind: For the second week in a row, we visited a young child receiving chemo treatments. These patients come out into the hall to visit the dogs, their IV polls in tow. This beautiful little girl sat on the floor with Emma, petting her and talking to her, as if they had been friends for life. 

And then she turned to her mother and said, “She has big brown eyes, just like me.” 

For that moment, this child was not a child with cancer. She was simply a little girl, sitting on the floor with a dog, who just realized this cute little beagle had big brown eyes, just like her.