The friend in stroke rehab posts often about her amazing progress with occupational and physical therapy. I'm amazed but not surprised. She's a very strong and courageous woman. Both of these friends are. When you are faced with this kind of adversity in life, you can either fight or give up. I don't believe give up is in their vocabulary. It certainly wasn't in John's, either.
Often, therapy dogs are involved. I know firsthand the amazing healing power of animals. Theyy made a huge difference in John's time at hospice. And actually, animals in general made a huge difference in John's life on earth.
John was generally, by nature, a shy and reserved man. But if animals (mostly dogs, cats, and birds) were around or the subject of conversation, it was like someone flipped the switch. His eyes would light up and he would engage in conversation. That was generally John with any areas of interest: current events, music, movies, comic books, history, books, photography.
As soon as the staff learned of his love for animals, arrangements were made for the therapy animals to visit John. Mostly therapy dogs, but someone came in from Preuss Pets to show other animals early on in John's stay.
Johnn loved to see Abbey and Elvis (and a rescue that my brother's family had for awhile--an adorable boxer girll), of course, but John had at least five (probably more) therapy dogs that made visits. John loved them all, but a special bond was formed between John and two of the rescues: A beagle named Buddy, and a Newfoundland named Elsa. Luckily, my dogs (particularly Elvis) felt the more the merrier...but particularly after Abbey died, Buddy felt he belonged to John more than Elvis and would get a little jeaous when I came with Elvis after work. Ha! And Elsa...Elsa would take her huge and lovely body and ever-so-gently recline with John on his bed. And they'd be like that for hours! I'm told that Elsa and Buddy (and their human mamas) had a difficult time visiting the hospice after John's death--so tight was their bond.
In the weeks after John's death, I woudl learn things that John had shared during the visits with the pets. I think in his attempt to protect me from what was to come, he didn't talk to me much about things, but I know he did with at least one of the visitors-with-pets. And I'm so glad.
I'll never forget what one of them said a few weeks after John's death, when I was having a particularly rough patch... "Tammy: John loved you so!"
You see, I can attest to the importance of pets in healing and in comfort and caregiving. I have living proof--his name is Elvis. I don't know what I would have done without him these past few years.
He cuddles every night. He runs around like a madman in the backyard--especially when I am having a bad day, as if his goal was to make me laugh. He always succeeds. My own personal court jester. He waits patiently for me to come home from work everyday. He walks up the stairs and waits at the landing EVERY time to give me kisses. He sits with me on another chair in the backyard of my house or viewing the lake at my brother's house. He is velcro. He loves me, even when I don't deserve it. So Christ-like. Who says dogs don't go to heaven? Not me.
