Puppy Therapy

I'm dog sitting this weekend. She's a very sweet Bichon, mellow with age, and loves nothing better than human attention. After collecting her, with permission, I thought I would take a chance and bring her with me for my regular trip to the care facility rather than driving her back to our place and adding another 30 miles to the commute. Other dogs had visited, so why not this well-behaved, lovable, and well-groomed pooch?

When we walked into the house together, the more lucid residents brightened up and asked if they could pet her. Well, of course! She really ate it up, and it was easy to see that it was love at first sight for the residents. There's just something about petting an animal that's soothing and relaxing and gentle and joyful.

My husband was just getting up from a nap, with a little coaxing and help from staff and me. Once we transferred him to a recliner, the dog jumped onto his lap and curled up. I thought he might be a little startled by that, but a beautiful smile spread across his face again and again as he scratched behind her ears and petted her. Naturally, I wasn't able to capture one for the camera, but it was the most thorough series of smiles I've seen from him in a long time. And he said, "Doggie!" Wow.

The staff let me know there hasn't been official "puppy therapy" at the house for a while. Volunteers can be hard to come by. So they encouraged me to bring her back when I can. That sounds like a good idea to me, assuming her owners will allow it. What do you think? Will they?

Happy Thanksgiving

During our music therapy yesterday afternoon, my husband was swaying to the music coming through his headphones and singing along unintelligibly. His eyes were shut tight and his facial expression oozed sincere effort as he held me, dancing. It was so sweet. He used to do this in the old days, and then he would smile and laugh self-deprecatingly. He didn't have confidence in his singing, but he actually sang quite well. I don't think he believed me when I told him so back then, but maybe he does now.

Something about the music or lyrics made him open his eyes, and they started to fill with tears as he looked out the window into the distance. Was he remembering something? Trying to remember something? In the moment for a moment? We looked into each other's eyes, smiling through the mist. Just briefly, so briefly, it seemed he was aware and with me. Or maybe he was elsewhere entirely, and I was reading too much into it because I desperately want our connection to be strong.

A bit later, he surprised me. I was taken aback. He said my name! It has been weeks since I last heard him utter it, so it was quite unexpected and pleasing. He was irritated with me at the time, so it was the familiar, exasperated "ChrI-i-Is!" from days gone by. He was frustrated because I was trying to divert him from the room of a bed-bound, very sweet lady. I'm told he likes to walk in and stand briefly just inside the doorway as if checking on her. Then he turns around and goes right back out. She doesn't seem to mind, if she's even aware of it.

He did the same thing when a gentleman at the house was transitioning to Heaven. It was as if my husband didn't want him to be alone. I can't explain it. I think it's the gentle, compassionate side of my man, unimpeded by filters and walls, showing itself in an endearing way. It gives me peace that, somehow, he appears to have empathy for the plight of others. Or maybe he's just wandering into other people's rooms.

It's Thanksgiving Day, and we have much for which to be thankful. But it's the first Thanksgiving without my husband at home, so it's sad, too. Thank you for reading my ramblings and being patient with me and encouraging me. I am thankful for you, for your support, and for your prayers. Tell your family you love and appreciate them today, even if they drive you crazy. Happy Thanksgiving!