Dogs heal

My uncle is very ill. The doctors say that there is a strong chance he won't make it through the week. He's my dad's last brother. It's been a roller coaster these past few weeks because he was admitted to the hospital for a pretty serious medication interaction, but the underlying problems have become overwhelming. We had hoped that as soon as the first problem cleared, the others would follow suit. That has not happened.

But this isn't about that. This is about something that I pursued that I didn't even know was possible and I think would help people in the end.

My uncle's family dog is a Jack Russell Terrier. Fonzi is a clever dog who essentially trained himself by simple observation. He learned that when Uncle would ask someone to pass him the remote, he was referring to that black thing with all the bumpy chewy things on the one side. He learned that when Uncle would ask someone to get his slippers, he meant those soft fluffy things for Uncle's feet. After a while, Uncle just started asking Fonzi for those items and the dog would fetch them. He was Uncle's constant companion at home.

The past few days, things have taken a turn for the worst and it weighed on me that my uncle and his dog might never see each other again. My aunt said that the dog would sit in Uncle's chair and that she had explained to Fonzi that Uncle was sick in the hospital -- that Fonzi must understand.

Thing is, in the past, Uncle always came home after being in the hospital. How could Fonzi possibly understand?

So I set to work. I talked to my aunt at length about bringing Fonzi to the hospital. I think she was skeptical. I begged my mother to advocate for the dog visiting but my mom doesn't really care for dogs. I don't think she sees the point of them. Her loss. And I tried to get a hold of my cousins but I initially couldn't get through. So armed with a little bit of information I started making phone calls.

I contacted the charge nurse at the hospital. We had a long conversation and I told her that I didn't think it would be long so there was an urgency to this being arranged. She told me that they had a policy for animals visiting but it was rarely used. She wasn't fully familiar with it but she promised to work with the family to make this a reality.

I called Fonzi's vet and asked if they could give him a health certificate. Unfortunately, they have to have seen the animal within 30 days so that was a no go. I luckily got my cousin on the phone at that point and told him what the process was, who he had to contact at the hospital, but it all hinged on getting the health certification. My resourceful cousin was able to find an appointment for the dog for that very afternoon and today Fonzi was in my uncle's hospital room.

I don't know if Fonzi knew what was going on. From my brother's account of the visit, Fonzi was freaked out and barking when he arrived at the hospital. It was a strange place; lots of bright lights and odd machines. He was very agitated. But when he entered Uncle's room, his behavior changed. He calmed and was let onto my uncle's bed. He licked his master's hand and Uncle was happy to see his little friend.

I want to believe that this gave Fonzi a little bit of closure. At least he knows where Uncle is. Perhaps he doesn't know that Uncle is dying but maybe he does. Maybe he senses that this could be his last time with him.

But here is what I know in my bones. I know that if I were dying or grievously ill, I'd want my dog. I know that when I'm feeling a little sad she'll find me and curl up in my lap or in my arms. She knows the value of simply presencing me.

And I know that today, I gave my uncle a small comfort. Better than flowers, I did something from these two thousand miles away that was just as real and tangible.

I helped get him kisses from his dog.