The comfort of a kind paw
By Michele Miller
Published January 15, 2007
NEW PORT RICHEY
The minute Jan Pemberton opened the door, she could see at once it had been a rough day. Just one glance at her husband sitting in his recliner surrounded by doggie toys would tell her how hard it had been for the man who had been felled by a diagnosis of cancer and all the other stuff that goes with it.
The chewy toys were "gifts" of sorts, meant to make T.J.'s master feel better, Mrs. Pemberton said. And more often that not, that dogs's show of love provided some good remedy.
"Dogs are intuitive. They can sense things," said Mrs. Pemberton, recalling how T.J. hovered more as Tom Pemberton got sicker.
The two were constant companions up until the end when Tom finally had to be hospitalized. Even then, he would beg his wife to bring his lovable cockapoo with the beige fur and chocolate brown eyes in for a visit.
"He missed that dog more than anything," she said. "He'd say, 'Can't you just sneak him in a bag or something?' But I couldn't. It broke my heart."
Still, Mrs. Pemberton was able to bring her husband home one last time.
"He died within 15 minutes, sitting in that chair with all his family around him and his dog in his lap," she said. "If you can say someone died happy, well then, he died a happy man."
'I feel that we've been very blessed'
That was two years ago. T.J., now a certified therapy dog, comforts other sick people who might get an emotional boost from petting and playing with him.
Mrs. Pemberton, a retired registered nurse, was helping at Hernando-Pasco Hospice as a patient support volunteer when she heard about the therapy dog program called Compassionate Paws.
T.J., with his gentle nature and prior experience comforting his master, would be perfect for that, Pemberton thought.
Her son and daughter-in-law also offered their dog, Wendy, a spry, 2-year-old pint-sized Maltese who was always more than eager to jump onto someone's lap and offer wet kisses.
"This is payback for me," said Mrs. Pemberton of her weekly visits with the dogs. "I feel that we've been very blessed."
Still she says, it only dawned on her recently that maybe she's making up for something. "I couldn't bring the dog with me to the hospital for my husband," said Pemberton. "So now I bring him to see other people."
Twelve steps and fond memories
Therapy dogs have to pass a 12-step test given by volunteers for Therapy Dogs International, Inc.
They have to show they won't be startled by loud noises or put-off by wheelchairs or the smells of a nursing home. And they must be able to strut right by that "treat" on the floor because sometimes patients drop their medicines or a piece of chocolate that can be deadly for the dogs.
Certification also comes with $1-million worth of liability insurance that enables T.J. and Wendy to do all that muzzling, nuzzling and kissing that brings so much comfort to a handful of hospice patients at Tandem Health Care and some other folks just up the road at Sunset Bay Assisted Living Facility.
"It's kind of funny. They might not know Jan's name, but they all know the dogs' names," said Tandem activities director Dolores Harring as Wendy and T.J. visited with patients Florence Messier and Lillian Rozycki. "When I see Jan, I take my big breath. It's so wonderful that she comes here. You can see that they (the patients) are dog lovers, and this brings such a diversion."
At Sunset Bay, a kind of wheelchair/scooter brigade lines up when residents catch sight of Pemberton, so they can take turns lavishing affection on the two canines.
"Give me a kiss," coos Ed Cowan, 68, as Wendy obliges.
"Wendy's always the star because she's so little," said Pemberton, who exchanges pleasantries with the residents. "But T.J.'s the caring one."
Besides bringing comfort and a diversion in a health care environment, the dogs often bring back fond memories for patients, said Becky Bennett, the volunteer specialist for Hernando-Pasco Hospice. "They reminisce about their dogs and their lives."
Indeed, those memories came tumbling out, one after the other, in the hour-long visit at Sunset.
"That one reminds me of my cocker spaniel, Buttons," said Rosemary Farmerie, pointing to T.J. "She wasn't as chubby as him though," she said, pulling a picture of her beloved Buttons out of a top bureau drawer. "She lived for 12 years."
"She reminds me of my little poodle, Frosty" said Jim Craven, 68, as he cradled Wendy on his lap. "That dog used to sit on my neck while I was driving and look out the window. He died of a heart attack. Climbed up the stairs and died under my bed. I miss him. He was like one of the family."
Michele Miller can be reached in west Pasco at 869-6251 or toll free at 1-800-333-7505, ext. 6251.
Fast Facts:
To learn more
For information about Hernando-Pasco Hospice's Compassionate Paws Program call Becky Bennett toll free 1-800-486-8784.