“Sure.” I sit down next to Mrs. Martin’s twins, Heidi and Holly.
“Sit,” I say to Sneakers.
Sneakers sits just as prettily as a dog on TV.
“Wow,” Jane says over the hum of the blow-dryer. “When did he learn that?”
“I’ve been working with him all week,” I say.
Jane nods—it’s too noisy to keep talking. So I wait. I notice framed photos of Yum-Yum on the counter, and I feel a little pinch in my heart. I mean, I still have my dog, and he’s alive and well. I hope that won’t make Jane feel bad that hers is gone.
The twins start petting Sneakers and talking to him. Sneakers enjoys the attention but stays where he is. If he starts to jump up on one of the kids, I will know to remind him, “Off!”
It feels great when Sneakers obeys perfectly. What a smart dog!
Soon Jane turns off her blow-dryer, brushes Mrs. Martin’s hair a little, and holds up a mirror.
“Perfect!” Mrs. Martin says. “As always. Thanks, Jane.”
Jane whisks off the cape, then goes to the cash register by the door. While Mrs. Martin pays, I show the twins some of Sneakers’ tricks: “sit,” “stay,” and “shake.”
The twins are impressed. “Hey, Mom!” Heidi shouts. “Can we get a dog like this?”
Mrs. Martin smiles. “We’ll talk about it at home.”
Holly pouts. “That’s what she always says,” she mutters.
I grin. “Tell her that mutts are very lovable.”
Both kids’ eyes light up. “We will!” they say.
When the Martins leave, Jane comes over to pet Sneakers. “How my little buddy?” she coos, scratching him behind the ears, just like she always did with Yum-Yum.
Sneakers barks to say he’s fine.
“I’ve really worked hard at training him this week,” I say.
“It shows.”
I’m quiet for a moment, trying to say what I don’t know how to say. “I’m sorry I haven’t come to see you.”
Jane looks at me with a smile that seems happy and sad at the same time. “That’s okay, honey. I understand. I haven’t felt much like visiting this week anyway.”
I don’t know if this will make her feel worse, but I tell her, “I miss Yum-Yum.”
The funny thing is, it seems to make her happier. She gives me a hug. “Thanks, sweetheart. A lot of people don’t bother to say anything. I guess they think he was just a dog. But you know, Yum-Yum was my family.”
I nod.
“I haven’t been back to see the kids at the hospital,” she admits. “I called the nurses to let them know what happened. Did you see the cards the kids made for me?”
She points to a bulletin board behind the desk. It’s covered with dozens of handmade cards.
“Did Emma make a card?” I ask her.
Jane nods and points to a card in the middle. It’s a red construction-paper heart that’s been cut into two jagged pieces. A broken heart.
So Emma is paying attention! She just keeps it all inside. Obviously Yum-Yum was starting to get through to her.
“I wish I was up to going in,” Jane says. “I miss going. I wonder how the kids are doing.”
“Do you think you’ll get another dog?” I ask. Instantly I wonder if it was the wrong thing to say.
But Jane just smiles kind of lopsidedly and shakes her head. “No. I just can’t stand the thought of replacing Yum-Yum. At least, not yet. Maybe one day.” She sighs. “I feel sorry about leaving the therapy program in need, though.”
I nod, thinking about Emma.
Sneakers jumps up into Jane’s lap, and she gives him a warm hug. Then she strokes his fur thoughtfully. “I’ve got an idea, Zoe. Let’s take Sneakers over to the hospital again. You’ve been working so hard with him. Maybe he’s a therapy dog after all.”
“You mean, now?” I ask.
“Why not?” Jane says. “Look how well behaved he’s been in here, with the twins and the noise from the blow-dryer. He’s really improved. Come on. Let’s try it.”
“I’m not sure,” I say. “I mean, I want to do it. But I planned on waiting until he was really ready before trying it with him again.”
I look at Sneakers. His tail is wagging.
I look at Jane. Her face is glowing.
Maybe we should try. Maybe it’ll do more than just cheer up the kids at the hospital.
Maybe it’ll help cheer up Jane, too.
“Why not?” I answer back. “Let me call Gran.”
Chapter Twelve
• • • • • • •
I’m nervous when we get to the hospital. Maybe Sneakers isn’t ready for this. What if he blows it again? What if I blow it? I guess my nervousness shows on my face.
Jane gives me a wink. “Don’t worry. Sneakers will be fine. Just make sure you give him the firm, calm direction he needs.”
But when we get to the children’s ward, Nurse Bennett blocks our path. “Whoa, whoa, whoa,” she says, holding up her hand. “Where do you think you’re going?”
“We’re here to visit the kids,” Jane replies.
Nurse Bennett shakes her head. “Uh-uh. I don’t think so, Jane. Not that dog. I remember what happened last time.”
“Oh, that was the old days,” Jane says, trying to soften her up. “Sneakers just had a bad day last time. Zoe has been training him all week, and he’s doing just great. He’s going to be a therapy dog. I’m sure the kids would love to see him.”
Nurse Bennett puts her foot down. “Sorry, guys,” she says. “But I’m afraid I have to say no.
• • • • • • •
“It’s not fair,” I say to Jane as we leave the hospital. “It’s just not fair.”
I feel awful. I feel as if it’s all my fault. If I’d trained Sneakers better from the beginning, he wouldn’t have misbehaved the last time we were at the hospital. We’d be inside right now, cheering up all those kids.
I put Sneakers down on the ground and hook his leash to his collar. I start to walk, staring at the ground.
“Don’t worry, kiddo,” Jane says, trying to console me as we walk back toward the car. “Temporary setback. We’ll get you in sooner or later.”
Suddenly the leash pulls tightly behind me. I look back.
Sneakers has stopped dead in his tracks and has started barking at something.
I’m not in the mood for this. “Come on, Sneakers.” I tug on the leash.
Sneakers tugs back.
It’s like he’s misbehaving just to make me feel worse.
“Come, boy. Come!” I whistle, then clap my hands. “Come on, Sneak! Wanna go for a ride?”
But no matter what I say, he won’t budge.
“Maybe the nurse is right,” I tell Jane in frustration. “Maybe Sneakers just can’t be trained. Maybe he just isn’t cut out to be a therapy dog.”
Sneakers barks again. Now he’s tugging toward the side of the building.
“What’s he barking at?” I ask Jane. I look up and all around. I don’t see anything.
Sneakers tugs me across the grass toward a large window.
“What is it, boy?”
Sneakers stops in the grass and sits. He barks and barks at a large picture window.
Someone inside the hospital is looking out.
The sun glints off the window a moment, and I can’t see who it is. Then Sneakers tugs me closer, and I can see.
It’s Emma Morgan! She’s sitting in her wheelchair, like always. I can’t believe how different she looks from when I saw her over a week ago. She’s thinner. Frailer. Slumped lower in her seat.
A ridiculous smiley-face balloon tied to her wheelchair bobs above her head.
“Look, Jane,” I say over my shoulder. “It’s Emma.”
Sneakers barks and barks.
Then I realize that Emma’s not staring at nothing, like she usually does. She’s looking at Sneakers.
Full of hope, I dash in front of Sneakers. “Come on, Sneakers. Let’s show her what we can do!” I look
him in the eye. I try to talk to him with all my thoughts, all my body language, all my heart. “Sit,” I begin.
Sneakers sits like a prince! I want to scoop him up and swirl him around.
But instead, I try our hardest trick. “Come on, Sneak. Listen now. Roll over.”
I make that rolling motion with my hand. I use all the ESP juice I can muster. “Roll over. Roll over, Sneak. You can do it! Roll over!”
Sneakers rolls over, then springs back onto his paws.
Ta-da! his little face seems to say.
“Wahoo!” I shout, jumping in the air. “Good boy!”
And then he does it again.
And again. I realize he’s having fun!
I glance up at the window. And I see something even more wonderful.
Emma smiles.
More kids join Emma at the window now, trying to see what she’s smiling at.
I wave at the kids—some that I know and some new ones. The kids smile and wave back. When they see Sneakers rolling around, they start to laugh and clap and tap on the window.
I scoop Sneakers up, and we both take a bow. Then I hold Sneakers up to the window. He tries to give’ Emma a kiss through the glass.
Emma blows him a kiss instead.
Then I see another face.
“Uh-oh.” It’s Nurse Bennett! She motions at me. I guess she’s telling me to go away, to quit bothering the patients.
“What a party pooper!” I whisper to Sneakers. I hug him and turn away.
“Wait, Zoe.” Jane puts a hand on my shoulder, stopping me. “Look.”
I turn around. Nurse Bennett isn’t scowling, like I expect her to be. She shaking her head, but she’s smiling! And waving at me.
“What?” I say, stepping forward.
I can’t hear her, but I can read her lips.
“Come on in,” she mouths. And she’s waving at me to hurry.
“Really?” I exclaim.
She smiles and nods enthusiastically.
“I’ll be right there!” I say. “Come on, Jane!”
We stop first so Sneakers can empty his tank. Then the three of us hurry inside.
• • • • • • •
Soon I’m sitting in the lounge, surrounded by kids. Sneakers rests quietly on Emma’s lap as she strokes his fur. Stephanie is sitting on the floor beside them, trying to brush Sneakers’ fur with a purple doll brush. For once Michael isn’t cracking jokes, but he’s got a new chew toy that he bought for Yum-Yum. He gives it to Sneakers instead.
That makes me feel great—to see that Sneakers isn’t just mine. He’s a dog that a lot of people can love.
It’s funny. I started out doing this to help others. I never guessed how great it would make me feel.
What if I’d given up on Sneakers? What if I’d just quit trying to train him? We wouldn’t be here now, cheering up these kids. Filling in for Yum-Yum.
I owe it to Jane, Gran, and even Maggie for helping me, I only wish Mom could see me now. She’d probably say, “This would make a great movie, Zoh!”
Standing back with Nurse Bennett, Jane looks happier than she’s looked in a while. I hope helping me and Sneakers with our training will keep her busy as she learns to deal with losing Yum-Yum.
As soon as I get home, I’m going to call up that training program Jane told me about and find out how Sneakers and I can train in a real therapy-dog program. Then Sneakers will, be official!
I can’t help but wonder as I watch everyone—what it is about a dog that makes people so happy? Especially kids like these, who have a whole lot to be unhappy about.
I don’t know. Maybe it’s because a dog just thinks about today. He doesn’t worry about the future. He doesn’t fret about the big messes he made yesterday! He’s just trying to be happy now.
The kids have asked me to read a book, and I’ve found one that Emma’s brother sent her. I open the cover to the title page. “Lassie Come Home,” I read, then tell the kids, “This is Sneakers’ favorite book. He loves stories that have a dog as the main character!”
Emma laughs. Her eyes shine. For the moment, all her problems are forgotten. And then I begin to read.
I always love the beginning of a new story.
Pets on Call
By J.J. MACKENZIE, D.V.M.
Wild World News—Imagine being sick in a hospital, facing an operation, or undergoing cancer treatment. Or imagine having to move into a nursing home, perhaps far away from your home, family, and friends. The hours may seem to drag by. Pain may be a daily part of your life. You’re bound to be a little lonely and sad.
Then someone comes to see you—someone who will sit with you, listen to you without judgment, make you laugh, and even love you—no questions asked.
And all that special someone wants in return is a pat on the head. That special someone is a dog! But not just any dog. He’s an animal who has gone through many hours of special training so that he can go into the community to cheer up people in need of a little TLC—tender loving care.
YOU HAVE A VISITOR
Every day around the country, thousands of dogs visit hospitals, schools, nursing homes, and rehabilitation centers. These trips range from quick, informal group visits to one-on-one sessions with patients. Some highly trained pets even have gone into communities that have suffered from school violence or a natural disaster like a flood or an earthquake to help kids deal with their fears and learn to feel normal again.
People use a variety of terms to describe pets who visit people: “therapy pets,” “therapy dogs,” or “visiting pets.” You may also hear their work referred to as “Animal Assisted Activities” (AAA) and “Animal Assisted Therapy” (AAT). AAA programs focus on visiting people to cheer them up and entertain them. In AAT, animals work directly with health-care workers like nurses and physical therapists to help patients recover from illnesses or disabilities.
A PET A DAY…
Dogs and other pets were once thought to be too dirty and unsanitary, or even too dangerous, to bring into health-care facilities. But those attitudes changed as studies began to show that interaction with pets can actually improve people’s health.
Pet visits to a nursing home can help people feel less lonely and depressed and can improve their overall sense of well-being. A pet visiting a hospital can distract patients from their pain and help them feel more hopeful in dealing with medical treatment.
Research shows that just the act of petting a dog can lower blood pressure. Pets can also decrease feelings of isolation. And when pets visit regularly, it gives people something wonderful to look forward to.
Dogs have an amazing ability to break the ice between strangers, and give them something to talk about. In fact, bringing a dog into an environment like a nursing home can encourage people to be more social, and the effect lasts even after the pet has gone.
HOW CAN MY DOG HELP?
Does AAA sound like something you and your pet might be interested in? Great—but don’t rush off to your local hospital with Fido in tow! Both dogs and people need special training to make sure they’re ready.
To begin with, your dog needs to be well trained. Can he reliably obey basic commands, such as “sit,” “stay,” “lie down,” and “come”? Can he walk with you under your control or on a leash?
But it’s not enough for your dog to be well trained. What’s more important is whether he wants to do it. Take the quiz at the end of this article to find out.
GETTING STARTED
To learn more about how you and your pet can train to do AAA, check the library for books about pet therapy and read up on what to expect. Then look in your phone book for local organizations, or contact the nearest hospital or nursing home. Many health-care facilities will be involved with an established program and will be able to tell you where to get information. You can also search under “Pet Therapy” or “Animal Assisted Activities” online (ask a parent for permission and help).
Even people without pets can sign up to be part of
a pet therapy program. Most programs are open to anyone age ten or older. Usually dogs must be at least one year old to participate.
Go to class. When you find an organization in your area, you’ll be able to sign up for classes. You might study a handbook and watch videos of real pet visits. Many classes will even simulate situations that a dog might encounter on a real visit so that you and your dog can practice.
Get a checkup. Most organizations will require you to visit your veterinarian to make sure your pet is healthy, disease-free, and up-to-date on shots.
Pass the test. Many programs will require your dog to pass the American Kennel Club Canine Good Citizen Test. You can find out more about the test through the American Kennel Club or your local animal shelter or humane society.
Get to work. After you’ve completed training, the organization will evaluate your pet and certify that he’s ready to go on visits. Once certified, you and your pet can make visits alone, with your family, or as part of a group. Many groups will even set up regular visits for you.
Just a pup? If your dog is less than one year old, you can still get started now. Practice basic obedience skills with your dog every day. Slowly help him gel used to being around people outside of your family. Gradually practice taking him into crowds and unusual situations.
Payback. Training your pet to go into the community is a lot of hard work. But when you see the smiles on the faces of the people you and your dog visit, you’ll know it’s been worth every second.
IS YOUR PET A GOOD BET FOR THERAPY?
Circle yes or no.
1. Does my dog really like people?
YES NO
2. Does he stay calm when he walks through a crowd, meets a friendly stranger, or meets another dog?
YES NO
3. Is my dog comfortable being touched, hugged, and petted by people he doesn’t know?
YES NO
4. Is he comfortable with loud voices and clumsy movements?
YES NO
5. Is he relaxed around moving equipment, such as wheelchairs or walkers?
YES NO DON’T KNOW
If you answered YES to most of these questions,your pet may be a good candidate!
Say Good-bye Page 8