February Challenge on Wordy Wednesday: Lexi, the Therapy Dog

Love. That’s what this month is about. That’s what this post is about.

Lexi spent ten years of her life going the third Thursday of every month (except November, when it always fell on Thanksgiving) to T.C. Thompson’s Children’s Hospital in Chattanooga. Sometimes I took her, and every once in a while the children’s director at the church where I worked asked to take her.

As an aside, I usually visited with the quilting group at the church every Thursdays, except the third one. Lexi would always come with me, and the ladies always made a fuss over her. On one of the third Thursdays that the children’s director had taken Lexi to do her “therapizing,” an older lady asked for Lexi’s whereabouts. I told her Lexi had gone to the children’s hospital to do her “therapizing”. The lady sat very quietly for a moment, then said, “Well, I knew she’s talented, but goodness, I didn’t know she could drive.”

It didn’t really matter who took her; we were just her means of getting to where she needed to be. After receiving her first treat, she took on her demeanor as a therapy dog and it was all business…and love.

One little girl, Kennedy, was there more often than not throughout the many years we visited. We watched her grow, we watched her struggle. During one visit, we walked into Kennedy’s room, where she had her head covered, crying. Lexi jumped on the bed, and the therapy pet coordinator said, “Look who’s here, Kennedy.” She pulled the covers down and a huge smile brightened her face. She grabbed Lexi in a big hug and held her against her chest. Lexi hated being hugged, but understanding how much Kennedy needed this, just laid there, held tight without a struggle until the little girl finally released her.

Lexi also did therapy at Siskin Physical Rehab in Chattanooga. Two incidents immediately come to mind. They both happened on the same day

In the hallway before entering a rehab area, an older man stood guard. He looked down and just stared at Lexi. “I’ve never much liked dogs, been scared of them all my life. I’ve never petted any of the dogs that come here. But this one here, she’s special. May I pet her?” I picked up Lexi so he could pet her, and he continued, “I used to be a pastor, and I do believe that the good Lord sent her.”

In the room, a young man sat in a wheelchair with his therapist standing next to him. After getting his permission, I gently set Lexi in his lap. She sat there while he pet her and the rest of us visited. We usually spent about five minutes with different patients at the rehab. This time, I suddenly realized 15 minutes had passed, with Lexi pawing at the young man’s hand every time he stopped petting her. This was unusual for her. As we walked away I overheard the man’s therapist say, “That was so good! You actually moved your hand!” I will never know how Lexi always knew just what each patient needed.

On the anniversary of Lexi’s tenth year at T.C. Thompson, I got permission for my husband to come along and take videos. Each person and their guardian gave permission to so this. This was planned to be our last visit, as Lexi was already suffering from the cancer that took her a short three months later.

Thanks to  Comedy Plus for hosting Wordless Wednesday Blog Hop.

February Challenge: Mom and Lexi

Love. That’s what this month is about. That’s what this post is about.

Nan wasn’t raised with a dog, and was a bit scared of them. I got my Mom a little dog from the shelter as her gift for retiring from nursing. She wasn’t sure about keeping her until Nan, said, “Aww, Marion, can’t we please keep her?” So they did.

I wish Nan had known Lexi. She would have loved her.

Years after Nan had passed, Mom finally moved here to Chattanooga into an apartment I had just vacated. I had bought a house only a block or so away. She was in her mid-80’s at that time, and I did not know how unsteady she was, and that dementia was setting in. She was able to hide it on my trips to western PA to visit. Mom delighted in Lexi staying with her in her apartment while I was at work. Mom was usually still in bed in the early morning when I dropped Lexi off, so I would let her in and she would stay with Mom in bed until it was time to get up. One afternoon when I stopped to pick up Lexi after work and visit a bit with Mom, she told me that she hadn’t felt good earlier. She said she was sitting on the edge of her bed when Lexi reached over and put her paw on Mom’s leg. Remember, Lexi was a therapy dog, and they know when someone is hurting or sick; they seem to know what to do. Mom said Lexi helped her feel better, and noted, “She’s a kind schnauzer.”

I noticed that Mom was going through her favorite jam that she used on her toast every morning. She admitted to me that she always made Lexi a piece of toast and jam to eat with her. Since I knew it was useless to try to persuade Mom to stop, I bought Lexi her own, inexpensive, apple jelly. A couple of weeks later I thought to ask Mom how Lexi liked the apple jelly. “Oh,” Mom replied, ” I’m eating that because Lexi likes the black raspberry jam better.” Yes, my Mom loved Lexi.

When Mom fell in the middle of the night, pulling the TV down on her, she wasn’t badly hurt, but it was time to move her to assisted living. She ended up falling there, too, and breaking her hip. She never recovered from that, and ended up in a nursing home. One day I received a call from the home that Mom had aspirated on something she was eating and was unconscious. They didn’t know if she would waken. I immediately called my son and then my husband, asking them to come quickly and bring Lexi. As we sat in chairs on each side of the bed, just waiting, my son and me crying, Lexi sat on the bottom of the bed staring at her grandma. Suddenly, Mom opened her eyes, looked down to the bottom of the bed, and with a huge smile, cried out, “Lexi!”

Today I am celebrating the joy that Lexi brought into my mother’s life, and the love they shared.