Sometimes Pet Therapy Days are scheduled appointments ~~
sometimes not. And the “sometimes not” days
are often some of the most memorable.
Whether planned or unplanned, one thing is always true, Chester and I receive a kazillion times more
than we give. This is the joy of Pet
Therapy and volunteering with KPETS.
On this particular day, Chester, my 4 yr old Golden
Retriever and I, loaded up in the car and began a 40 minute drive to meet one
of our scheduled appointments. About 15
minutes into the drive I got a call, so I pulled over, took the call, and discovered
sadly, our appointment had been cancelled
due to illness. Bummer.
Rather than head home, Chester and I stopped in at nearby coffee
house where doggies are always welcome. It is kind of a funky place, think 70’s and
Hippies. As fate would have it, just inside the front door, three women sat
together having coffee who were absolutely
delighted to meet Chester and hear Pet Therapy tails. As I talked story about the JOYS of Pet
Therapy, Chester was in heaven receiving
countless head pats, ear rubs, and back massages. One of the women commented, “Chester just made my day, we
all need a bit of pet therapy, don’t we?….”
Chester and I left
the women to their coffee and conversation, and then ventured to the back
garden and patio. It is here where the coffee-house-owners grow all of their
own herbs and veggies and possibly other green plants. Anyways, seated in this patio garden was a group of
traveling British Gentlemen who were so very excited to meet Chester. More pats and backrubs for the boy. One of the
men jumped into a lively conversation (you have to read this with a lively
British accent and your pinky high in the air), “Oh my, is he a rescue
dog? I see he is in therapy! I have a dog I’d like to get into therapy. ”
And thus began our conversation that Chester is not IN therapy, but GIVES
therapy. I did not laugh out loud, and
we had QUITE a lovely conversation. Spot-on!
Chester, at this point, was thinking Hippie Coffee Houses
were pretty dog-gone fun. After waving
g’bye to our British chaps, and heading out the door, one of the women (still
having coffee) said, “Have you ever been to The Garden House? It is a beautiful home for men and women with
Alzheimer’s. It’s just down the
street.” And so, off we trotted,
around the corner and down the street. I
mean, why not?
Though unplanned and very spontaneous, we were welcomed at
Garden House with open arms. We visited with the men and women in their common
living area. Many were responsive with smiles,
puppy pats, and stories of their own dogs.
Things were pretty calm and mellow, until Chester spied four delicious
green tennis balls attached to the bottom of a sweet little old lady’s
walker. He pawsed, he sniffed, he licked, he whined,
he wagged, and then he BARKED. Not a
wimpy teensy bark, a WHOMPIN WOOHOO
let’s play BARK. I jumped, and so did
everyone else in the room --- I think we all leaked our panties (or depends),
and then laughter erupted in the room. So
silly. So good for the soul.
From cancellations, to coffee, to quite lovely pet therapy
talks, to peeing our pants with laughter, that was our day. All unplanned (by us), but delightfully
planned. We are so blessed to do what we get to
do. Pet Therapy for all.
