Day 108

8/30/22

After daily puppy posts from our amazing Cassie (the breeder), sharing every moment of the litter's growth, we learned that Red will be our boy. A dog behaviorist was hired to assess each pup and help to find each puppy the right home. Red...soon to be Sam...was found to be the most promising future Therapy Dog. We love him already! Two more weeks and I will share pictures of his homecoming!

As for the other dogs in our life, Ranger was at Walker Senior Residence this morning and then Lilly and I headed over to Mercy Hospital. Gus stayed home, but was watching out the window as we disappeared and appeared again and again.

At Mercy, Lilly made the rounds and people seemed genuinely touched by her nuzzles and wagging tail. She is a real charmer and knows how to work a crowd. Time and again, this wonderful golden knew just the right thing to do. Sometimes she would do the Golden Lean on a staff member and other times, she would offer a paw or rest at a person's feet...looking up with such a deep, loving gaze. She simply KNOWS what a person needs.

One of our regular stops is at the waiting room up on the heart floor. Today, a staff member came up to us as we visited with a waiting family and asked if we could visit a certain room. She told us that a 19-year-old was there and not in the best of moods. (This turned out to be her own son.) After finishing with the waiting room, we headed in.

Knocking on the door, I heard a gruff "Come on in!", so we walked into the room. A young man, in a track suit with his college displayed across the front, stood up and walked our way. He reluctantly put his phone away as I said, "We don't usually see someone your age, looking amazingly healthy here. How is your day going?"

He proceeded to tell me that, three days ago, he had been running a cross-country race when he collapsed near the finish line. He seemed more concerned about the unfinished race than the medical episode, and informed me that he just wanted to get out and start running again.

Putting a few pieces of information together, I realized his parents were both in the medical profession. I asked how they were handling this. He confessed that he had been pretty horrible to them because they wouldn't let him leave the hospital. All the time, Lilly was working her magic.

As he knelt down to pet Lilly the stress and frustration seemed to melt a bit. I decided this might be a good time to offer a piece of advice as a parent. I told him that, as a parent myself, this would be so scary. His parents must be worried and only want to make sure it doesn't reoccur. I added that he was so very lucky that this happened in front of his parents who rushed to his side and had him transported to an amazing facility. I ended with the fact that he was one of the lucky ones who actually recovered and now there would be some interventions to make sure it didn't happen again.

Lilly looked at him and he looked at Lilly. To the Therapy Dog, he said, "I know you're right. I guess I will just do what they tell me." We chatted about other things and had a few good laughs and then we left. Walking out into the waiting room, I saw a man grabbing some coffee and looking at me expectantly.

"You're his dad, aren't you?" After a nod, I continued, "How frightening for you to be there when it happened, but what a blessing! He's going to be fine with all the watchful eyes on him." The father's eyes filled with tears and he bowed over his steepled hands and whispered, "Thank you".

Watching over those we love, two and four-footed kids alike, has its share of fear and heartache. It also has a good portion of relief, joy and unexpected blessings. I know I am on the receiving end of those unexpected blessings every day...most of them have a golden retriever in the mix!