Frankie and I had our first Therapy Dog Training session last Friday afternoon. Julie and her dog, Preston, a king charles cavilier spaniel, showed us the ropes at Beech Nursing Home. We are going through www.therapydogs.comto become a registered team and we must go through three training sessions with Julie.
Julie has to observe how Frankie is with the residents. I have to sort of laugh because from what I observed with Frankie, she is a pro at this. I think she was meant to do this her whole life. She rolls in the place like she knows why she is there. As with most things, I believe dogs know way more than humans, so it is I who needs the training, not Frankie! HA!
I must admit, it is hard to see and be in a nursing home atmosphere. It is hard to think that is what our lives come to. I pray, like everyone else I am sure, that I die in my sleep someday and escape having to be in a nursing home. It it is to be, I then pray someone will bring dogs in, like we did with Preston and Frankie. So many of the residents faces lit up when they saw the dogs. Some preferred to look at them from a distance and some wanted nothing to do with the dogs. I felt sorry for the ones who wanted nothing to do with the dogs. Though I totally respect their decision, it is hard for me to comphrend, being the big dog lover I am, not wanting the love of a dog. But, if that is their wish, I do respect it. It was wonderful to see some of the residents eyes sparkle and big smiles form on their faces when we spent a few moments with them and they pet the dogs. I couldn’t help but think it was not only therapy for the residents, it was also therapy for me. It gives a person a whole new respect for the elderly. Some residents did not seem ‘here in this world’ so to speak, but we must still treat them with dignity and respect. I couldn’t help but wonder who they were in their earlier lives.
The last gentleman we visited was a plump fellow, sitting in his wheelchair in the dimly lit hallway. His head was bowed down towards his chest like he was taking a cat nap. As we approached from behind, Julie quietly said, “This man LOVES dog visits.” Sure enough, as we came up along side his wheelchair and he saw Preston, the dim hallway seemed to fill with sunshine from the sparkle in this man’s eyes and the broad smile that formed on his face.
I left that day with a heavy and joyful heart all at the same time. My heart was heavy for what I saw, but my heart was joyful knowing Frankie brought a few happy moments to the residents day.
So I go back to what I originally said about humans needing to be trained for therapy dog work, not the dogs. Dogs accept so easily, never judging, always knowing we are all going to a different realm in our lives someday, and I do believe that realm is the most beautiful place. So accepting and knowing that after seeing some of the residents is what I must remember.