FORT KENT, Maine — Those of you who follow the adventures here on Rusty Metal Farm are well aware this is a place where dogs rule.
I am but a member of a pack of 10 sincere sled dogs and one husky-sheltie crossbreed, affectionately dubbed a “shusky.”
While it would be nice to think of myself as the alpha among the pack, I am pretty sure Corky-the-Shusky would beg to differ, offering up her exhaustive daily chore list of barking at the sled dogs, chasing squirrels, herding the chickens, riding shotgun in the truck and keeping a watchful eye on all things treat-related in support of that role.
Two weeks ago, she added to her doggy resume — pet therapy.
It was two weeks ago, because of rapidly declining health, my father was transferred to the skilled care unit at Borderview Manor in Van Buren.
Until then, he lived in an apartment added on to our house about 10 years ago. For the past nine years, Corky was a frequent visitor to what we jokingly referred to as my dad’s “wing” of the house.
It made perfect sense when I found out Borderview not only welcomes but encourages well-behaved four-legged visitors that Corky would accompany me to see my dad.
And it was a good thing I did.
When I showed up that day, my dad had two questions: Did I bring a chocolate milkshake from McDonald’s, and “Where’s Corky?”
Fortunately, I brought both.
The change in my dad’s demeanor and attitude when Corky padded into his room was marked.
She went right over to his bed, put two paws up on the side, then gently put her nose close to his face.
For the next several minutes, the two enjoyed a private human-dog connection that was uniquely their own.
My dad then wanted to sit up so he could pet her, and right away she hopped up on the bed with him to accept the dog biscuits I brought for him to give her.
We had been visiting for a while when I began to catch whispers from the hall outside the room from people commenting on Corky’s presence, notably from the woman who was in the room across the hall.
Looking out, I could see she was in her own doorway, looking intently at Corky.
After a bit, I decided to take Corky visiting and introduced her to the woman who was thrilled to make her acquaintance.
We talked about her dog and dogs we had known. At times she would direct her comments to Corky, petting her and telling her what a good dog she was.
Corky, in turn, would wag her tail in agreement that she was, indeed, a good dog.
Heading back to my dad’s room, we met up with two members of the Borderview physical therapy team who were working with a resident in the hallway.
As we stopped to say “hi,” one of the therapists noticed the resident leaning a bit to pet Corky.
“Look at what she’s doing,” the therapist said. “We have been trying to get her to lean over and use her arms, and she has not wanted to.”
In fact, the resident flat out refused to lean forward in her wheelchair.
The therapists tried having Corky sit a foot or so in front of the resident’s wheelchair. Within seconds, she was leaning forward and reaching out to pet Corky, who did not move an inch until her job was done.
On subsequent visits, after checking in with my dad, Corky has enjoyed saying “hi” to the woman across the hall, who is certainly on the lookout if she knows we are coming.
“It brightens up everyone seeing a pet,” Sandra Nadeau, Borderview’s social worker, said. “We have some people who are confused or never smile. And when they see a pet, the transformation is amazing.”
Pets, Nadeau said, bring out the best in people.
“That’s especially true if they had pets before coming here,” she said. “It brings them right back to when they were home and can relax them.”
Therapy Dogs International is a volunteer organization dedicated to regulating, testing and registering therapy dogs and their volunteer handlers for the purpose of visiting nursing homes, hospitals and other institutions. The group’s website says nursing homes were among the first to recognize the benefits of human-pet contact.
“Therapy dogs elicit responses from some nursing home patients who are typically withdrawn and limited in their abilities,” the organization states. “Stroking the back of a dog leads to more movement from the patient and, consequently, increased physical activity. The introduction of dogs increases interaction among individuals and promotes a positive change in self-esteem.”
It reminds me of my friends Bob and Sharon, who would take their dog, Danny, to visit Sharon’s mom when she was in an area nursing home.
Danny, a massive dog of indeterminate lineage, would trot directly to Sharon’s mom’s room from the front door, then would sit quietly near her while getting petted and praised.
After a while, other residents wanted in on the doggy action, and Danny would stop off in their rooms, too.
In my opinion, a loyal dog is pretty much already a “therapy” dog. They are devoted, in tune with human emotions and never judge.
Is there really anything better suited to bringing a smile and a bit of joy to an elderly patient?
She’s already top dog at Rusty Metal Farm, but I think Corky is well on her way to favored dog status at Borderview, too.
Julia Bayly of Fort Kent is an award-winning writer and photographer, who writes part time for Bangor Daily News. Her column appears here every other Friday. She can be reached by email at jbayly@bangordailynews.com.
