It has been a tough two weeks, but Bashir is by my side
By Liz Palika
May 6, 2009
Four years ago a very good friend of mine, Tracy, was diagnosed with stage IV breast cancer. Tracy, a very intelligent woman (she had passed the bar exam the first time in three different states!), had helped nurse her mother through cancer a few years before and so was in complete denial about her own symptoms. Hence the stage IV diagnosis.
Tracy and her significant other, Jim, had gone through dog training with me and following that joined our therapy dog group. She became membership secretary and later president. She and her black Lab, Quincy, were awesome.
Quincy crossed the Rainbow Bridge this past Thanksgiving, and I think that led to the sudden spiral downward of Tracy’s health. During this decline, Jim lost his job. Facing homelessness, they needed help. I rallied all of our therapy dog friends, and we were able to make sure they had enough money for rent. We also pushed Tracy to sign up with hospice so they could assist her and Jim as well. Other friends made sure their black Lab puppy, Hope, got walks and play sessions.
A friend called me two Sundays ago and said, “If you want to see Tracy, go now!” So I grabbed Bashir, my 5-year-old Australian Shepherd, put his vest on him and picked up my Mom as she knew and loved Tracy, too.
At the hospice nursing home it was clear that Tracy was not going to be with us much longer. Bashir licked one hand, gently touching each finger, and then went around the bed to do the same thing to the other hand. Why? I have no idea. He also wanted to get into bed with her, but I couldn’t let him as there wasn’t room. So he made up for it by putting his head on her arm and staring into her face for the longest time. Visulalizing the Rainbow Bridge, perhaps? I don’t know. All I know is that her labored breathing did calm.
Bashir then visited with Jim, with Tracy’s nurse when she came in, and then with her oncologist. We left during the doctor’s visit and when we got home we found out that Tracy passed just minutes after we left.
My dog training business, Kindred Spirits, offered our training yard to Jim for Tracy’s memorial, and he accepted. More than 50 people showed up, including numerous therapy dogs and their owners and several confused people who didn’t own dogs. However, after being visited by Bashir and some of the other therapy dogs, even the non-dog owning people were relaxing.
My memories of Tracy’s memorial are those of people smiling and sharing their memories of Tracy; of dogs playing and giving love; of kids playing; and of the Southern California sun shining. It doesn’t get much better than that.
Bashir has been glued to my side for the past two weeks. I know he senses my sadness and is there for me. All dogs are wonderful in their ability to sense our moods and our needs, but therapy dogs take it just a step farther. Bashir, bless his heart, is a perfectionist in all ways: If a good therapy dog is needed, he’ll be an awesome therapy dog instead. And he is.
I have been doing therapy dog work since the mid-1980’s. Bashir is my eighth or ninth certified therapy dog — let’s see: Care Bear, Ursa, Dax, Kess, Chocho, Riker, Flea and Bashir. He’s my eighth. And our puppy, Archer, has just begun training.
In upcoming posts I’ll introduce you to Archer in “The Making of a Therapy Dog,” and let you know what he’s doing during his therapy dog training, his first visits, and his certification.
Who knows? Perhaps you’ll decide to get involved with your dog! But even if you don’t, I think you’ll enjoy Archer’s adventures. Where Bashir is serious; Archer is not! He’s a happy, silly, loving, affectionate, and very intelligent young dog. Therapy dog training with him will be a blast.
Image: Archer, left, and Bashir.
Liz, your post made me cry — and think of Allie’s apparent therapeutic talents. Someday …
Comment by Susan — May 6, 2009 @ 6:13 am
just incredible! thank you for sharing.
Comment by Anthony — May 6, 2009 @ 6:58 am
That is a lovely post.
I am so sorry about your friend.
Comment by Mary Mary — May 6, 2009 @ 7:11 am
What a wonderful post in tribute to your friend. So sorry for your loss.
Isn’t it amazing how much animals seem to sense our emotions? Our cats always know when we need an extra cuddle!
Comment by Tammy — May 6, 2009 @ 7:44 am
I am very sorry about the loss of your friend. I am glad you have Bashir as a therapy companion for yourself right now! Very touching post.
Comment by keenwell — May 6, 2009 @ 8:42 am
I am very sorry to hear about your friend. Thank you for sharing your story.
Comment by Jason Merrihew — May 6, 2009 @ 11:23 am
I am so sorry to hear about Tracy…it all brought tears, both for the grief of her loss and for the way your friends pulled together to help them in such a time of need. I easily imagine Bashir trying to get closer to Tracy on the bed. He knew what she needed.
Comment by Phyllis DeGioia — May 6, 2009 @ 11:26 am
What a wonderful story. I’m sorry about your loss, but how wonderful to know that Bashir helped make your friend’s passing peaceful. The memorial must have been an incredible experience.
I recently read a wonderful book about a hospice dog, “Izzy and Lenore” by Jon Katz. The stories about how Izzy, the hospice dog, brought joy to patients, are amazing.
Comment by Ingrid King — May 6, 2009 @ 1:58 pm
This made me think of my grandparent’s dog, Susie. She was an outdoors-only farm dog. Last spring, when my gramps was dying of cancer, we let her in the house and she went to the doorway, looked at grandpa sitting in his chair and ran back out. Probably thinking he was about to shoo her out. A couple days later, on his last day, we let her in again. She ran straight to the hospital bed and nudged her head up into his hand. She sat by the bed with his hand on her head until we took her out again.
When he passed that night and they came to take his body, she stood outside watching. When the truck pulled away, she ran to where it was and sat down. Then started down the driveway. She stopped, came back to where the truck had been and lay down watching the driveway. I called her and she didn’t come and didn’t look at me, which is so odd for her. I think she knew he left, but hadn’t seen him, so it didn’t make sense.
The next day she caught a pheasant. My grandma couldn’t believe it because my grandpa had said she was getting lazy and hadn’t been keeping the bunnies out of the garden anymore. I like to think she did it for him.
A couple months later, she passed away, too. It seems to work that way with a lot of dogs I’ve known.
Beautiful story. And thanks for reminding me about Susie and my gramps. It was nice to remember that today.
Comment by Amy — May 6, 2009 @ 8:52 pm