As I sit down to write, the seat seems a bit unfamiliar due to many instances including a lightning hit to our computer set up. With the computer and me back up and running, I sit to write with Clover on the floor tugging at my sock. Clover and I have been having conversations in the last 24 hours about a special program and how she and I could work together to fit into it. So, without any further ado, I will lean back so Clover can tell you her story.
By Clover Fender
“Happiness is a warm puppy.” I agree with this saying by Snoopy’s creator, Charles Schultz, but I really feel that happiness is being the puppy sharing warmth.
Yesterday, on a very pretty Sunday afternoon, Bing and I got a little frisky fooling around on our hill surrounded by woods. We like to wrestle with each other and pull on either end of sticks seeing if we can make them grow, but when we get tired, we point our heads in the direction of the woods, then watch and listen for whatever might pique our interest.
When I heard my absolute favorite sound, Captain’s bark, I could not hold back and I broke the rules by charging down the driveway, across the street and over to his house. Bing is my sister dog, and I love her, but Captain is the coolest dog friend a pup could ask for. He is a great big dog of many flavors, same age as me and loves to play. I ran down the hill, crossed the street without even a hesitation to look for cars, and into Captain’s yard.
Captain and I pawed at each other, chased in circles and played the usual games as Mom talked with Captain’s mom. When we romp, we do not discuss matters of interest – no time, but Mom learned about Captain’s latest adventure – he is training to be a therapy dog.
Later in the evening when I rested my head in Mom’s lap, she talked to me about the possibility of the two of us becoming a therapy team. Mom scratched my ears as she mused about the work I could accomplish as a therapy dog. She told me that with my loving nature and sensitivity, I could bring comfort and joy to people who hurt.
Well, I am not sure about the sensitivity part, but I do have quite a bit of experience in just being there for my family when they feel heart pain. I learned these skills from the best. My first dad, Nicholas, showed me the finest in kindness and caring. He and I have been described as peanut butter and jelly; we made such a good team. When Nicholas passed away six months ago, it left a gaping hole in not only my heart, but the lives of his parents, my new mom and dad with whom I now live.
I don’t always understand things, but I know when they need me to be quiet and sit close by. I seem to have an instinct to lean into them at the most crucial of times when they need comfort. Laying still is just not in my nature, but when my people hurt, I hold still as a scared rabbit so they can feel my warmth and absorb my love. After all, I know their pain in loss; I lost the person I thought would be my life companion.
So, with the nod of my head and wag of my tail, I gave Mom the permission she needed to tear through Google looking for information on therapy dogs. She told me that if the training works out, and I pass the course, we could go together to visit people in hospitals, nursing homes, and hospice facilities.
She even read about a program where therapy dogs serve as reading partners to children who struggle in learning to read. I know I could do that because I don’t know how to read, and would love to hear stories from kids.
She told me that if I learn the ropes well, I could just hop up on the laps and beds of those who could use a warm puppy to give them happiness. That sounds like a good plan to me.
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