Hospital Dogs

Disclaimer

The story you are about to read is pure fiction. Derived from an overactive imagination, research of animal ESP and reports of how animals detect illness in humans.

The setting is an American Legion lounge. Typical of the thousands of lounges found throughout America. The Legionnaires depicted are of my imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is coincidental.

An American Legion Lounge

The lounge at my American Legion Post offers a great variety of tasty lunches and a well stocked bar.

Tuesday’s lunch is two for a buck sliders served up hot off the griddle with all the condiments one can jam on a biscuit. A close second is the B.L.T. sandwich served on Thursday. Both, accompanied by a cool draft makes for a great lunch.

Tuesday and Thursday I join Ted and Phil at their regular bar seats. Being pre Vietnam we have a lot in common. In fact Ted like myself, is pre Korea. I am not sure about Phil we have been enjoying lunch together for just over a year. Not enough time for all the tales to be told.

On this warm June Thursday I found Ted talking to a man who was not a Thursday regular.

As I crawled on the bar stool next to Ted, Avis, the best Legion bartender known to veterans, slid my beer across the bar asking, “B.L.T. sandwich?” I asked Ted, “How’s the sandwich?” Ted answered, “I liked it. Had lots of Mayo.” Avis said, “I guess that means yes?”

Smiling I said, “Right, but hold off a little. It’s warm outside so I have a feeling this will be a two beer lunch.”

Avis said, “There goes your diet.” Ted waving his finger at Avis said jokingly, “You're not supposed to remind us of our shortcomings.”

He turned and said, “Bill I want you to meet Jim Best. He is head of the hospital visitation team and has a fascinating story to tell.” Being a dog lover I am sure you will enjoy his story.

As we shook hands, Jim asked, “Bill have you ever visited the Veterans' hospital?” “NO!” I answered, “I try to avoid hospitals as much as possible. I find them depressing.” Ted said, “I have to agree, but Bill, when you hear Jim’s story you might change your mind, especially, if your little pup can get involved.”

Jim asked, “Ted tells me you have a Basset Hound. How old is she?” “Sophy is at least four. We found her at the local Animal Shelter. The vet guessed her age to be at least two. She has been a family work in progress for two years, so we call her our four year old pups.”

She is a hunting hound with a powerful nose and a yen for the chase, and if she picks up an interesting scent and launches herself, my shouting and arm waving will fall on deaf ears. "Come" is not a command Sophy will readily respond to when on a scent.

Most dogs are attracted to other dogs. Sophy is attracted to people. If, on our morning walk, we meet another person walking his or her dog Sophy makes a quick check of the dog, in the normal nose to butt manor, then heads for the person seeking attention.

People respond to the cute little short legged pup laying on her back asking to have her belly rubbed. The other dogs want to play or romp. Sophy just wants her tummy scratched.

As Avis placed my sandwich on the bar I took a sip of my beer and told Jim I was ready to hear his story.

Jim’s Story

I visit the hospital twice a week to read stories, newspapers and whatever the patients want. Most of the group I read for are blind or partially blind.

Last Saturday I was late. When I entered the common room and looked at my reading corner I saw my group clustered around a Border Collie petting and laughing at the antics of the dog. They were enjoying the company of the four legged animal going from man to man demanding his ears be scratched. The men were having such a good time I hesitated to interrupt the session.
Standing just inside the double doors I was bumped by a gurney being pushed into the common room.

The attendant apologized explaining he needed to park the gurney for an hour or two while the patient's room is being sanitized.

He said, “The man will be no problem. He hasn’t moved or spoken for the past three weeks. The Doctors have not been able to determine a cause. I’ll just put him by the window and be back in an hour.”

As the attendant pushed the gurney across the room a moan came from my reading group. The dog was leaving. As the attendant made sure the patient was comfortable, the Border Collie moved towards the gurney in a semi crouch as if she was preparing to herd a bunch of animals. The dog handler called to her, but she continued to move forward. When she reached the bedside she began a low almost quiet whine. She sat for a moment then raised on her hind quarters and put her paws on the side of the bed.

The dog handler was approaching the bed with the dog's leash ready to pull the dog away when the attendant raised his hand to stop him. He said in a whisper, “Let’s wait and see what happens. I am sure the dog does not intend to do any harm.” “No,” answered the handler. “She is trained to offer herself as a source of comfort for those having problems.”

The collie worked her nose under the man's hand as if she was asking to be petted.

With the hand resting halfway up the muzzle she again began whining.
Although barely audible those who had lost their sight said they heard the sound of pleading.

She was asking the man to react and pet her. It was deathly quiet. No one seemed to be breathe. Then, the hand twitched. I saw it! The Collie reacted by raising her head and increasing the volume of her song.

Another twitch, the eyes blinked the collies movements increased. Within an hour the man’s eyes were full open the hand stroking the head of the collie.

The attendant moved to the other side of the bed and tried talking to the patient. He received no verbal response, but the patient could answer questions by shaking his head. Doctors soon descended on the common room and began hooking up all kinds of tubes.

The patient shook his head and said, “No, no leave me.” The soft whine from the collie turned into a quiet, but definite growl. As if saying, “Leave my new friend alone.” The dog handler suggested it might be wise to back off and let nature take its course.

When I left late in the afternoon the patient had been returned to his room.
He was explaining what had happened and how the dog had forced him to realize what he had been doing was wrong.

“Wow.” I said, “That is quite a story. I’m going to have that second beer, care to join me?”

“Be glad to. I’m a little dry. Do you think you would like to join the visitation group and see if your Sophy qualifies as a visiting dog?”

“It is something to think about.”

Avis asked what everyone listening to the story wanted to know, “What happened to the patient and the dog?”

“Avis,” Jim answered, “The collie is still coming to the hospital dispensing good will and making men feel good about themselves. As to the rejuvenated patient, I was told he was released to the care of a sister two weeks later.”

“Bill,” Jim said, “Here is my card. I’ve written the phone number of the lady in charge of visitations. Call her. She can answer any question you might have concerning dogs and their use in our hospital."

“OK, I’ll talk it over with the wife and if she thinks it a good idea I’ll call her.”

The rest of the afternoon conversation around the bar comprised story after story of military dog encounters the men had experienced.

I knew dogs had played important part in many military actions but listening to the stories related that Thursday convinced me that my Sophy would get an extra goodie that night after diner.

My wife and I investigated the requirements for a dog to become a hospital visitor.

We found The American Kennel Club's Canine Good Citizen program to be required by our local hospital and senior retirement home.

Sophy would have no problem with most of the test. The requirement to walk by the side of his handler, me, and obey voice commands in a public situation was out of the question. When we walk she is out in front, nose to the ground searching for a scent, any scent. Dead decaying anything are favorites. I have learned to be very attentive when Sophy scurries from side to side with the, I have found something position of the ears, up and attentive.

If I don’t find the dead something and re-direct her she will have it in her mouth in a flash.

The only saving grace, she lets me remove the choice morsel from her mouth without putting up a struggle. When we jump a Rabbit or Quail she runs to the end of her tether almost pulling my arm out of the socket. The command, “No...Sophy...No” only works when the end of the tether is reached.
Other than these few little problems an early morning walk with Sophy is fun and very refreshing.

We visited our local vet asking her for an opinion. She told us the very affectionate characteristic of Basset Hounds make them wonderful dogs to visit hospitals. Unfortunately, it is difficult to train them to conform to the requirements of obedience.

The Doctor's comment determined our decision. The wife and I did not want an overly trained dog. We liked Sophy as natural as possible. Sometimes this was a problem but a rambunctious free spirited Sophy was what we liked.

We returned home from the vets, gave Sophy a munchie, a hug and a promise to take her to the dog walking field where she could interact with other dogs and people.

The Hospital visit program was abandoned for a free acting goofy Basset Hound.