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Sep 02, 2014 | Karla Goolsby

The Therapy Dogs of Houston Hospice

 

In the midst of the largest medical center in the world, the 1920s estate of a former Houston Mayor has become an oasis. The Tudor-style façade of Houston Hospice sits in stark contrast to its frenetic surroundings. Behind ivy covered walls, French doors and mullioned windows overlook moss-covered paths and a sparkling pond that reflects low hanging branches of century old oaks. In this tranquil place it’s not unusual to see dogs trotting through hallways or sprawled, cooling their bellies on the smooth floor. These contented therapy dogs feel at home, and without trying they share a sense of normalcy; of being at peace in this place. 

The story of therapy dogs at Houston Hospice began 10 years ago when long-time volunteer, Ann James, rescued a particularly docile Golden Retriever named Chrissy. When Chrissy cheered an elderly neighbor by laying her head in the woman’s lap, Ann realized her newly rescued dog was a natural therapy pet. Ann found a certification program through Faithful Paws, a ministry of Bellaire United Methodist Church, and recruited fellow Golden Retriever owner and friend, Lynn Hoster, to join her. After training and certification Chrissy, and Lynn’s dog, Dixie, became the first Houston Hospice therapy pets. As other volunteers became inspired by Chrissy and Dixie’s example, more dogs joined the ranks. 


I had the opportunity to shadow our pet therapy volunteers and their pups in June. The first foursome I met was Chris Chisholm with her rescued Cavalier King Charles Spaniel, Jazz, and Judy Anderson with her Bichon Frise, Casey. They were excited to share their enthusiasm for pet therapy. Chris said, “I’m so glad you’re writing this story because people need to know that Houston Hospice is a great place to volunteer.” She went on to say that the volunteer training she received at Houston Hospice changed her life. When I asked how, she answered explaining that the training gave her a new perspective on death, that her own fear of death has been alleviated and she has a new understanding of the importance of comfort. Chris and Judy told me Jazz and Casey love visiting people. They make sure the dogs are freshly washed because they even jump onto beds and snuggle up to patients. I asked how Jazz and Casey were affected by their jobs here, and Judy said it does take a lot of energy because they encounter so many new smells, and because new people constantly reach out to touch them. She added, “The dogs let us know when they’re tired and it’s time to go.” 

When I asked Chris and Judy what surprised them about visiting Houston Hospice, they said it was learning that caregivers and family members really appreciate the visits. Judy said, “Sometimes patients are unresponsive, but their families are helped. The visits bring them happiness at a very stressful time.” As we walked the halls, every soul we encountered smiled the moment they saw the dogs — broad, unabashed smiles; the kind that spring from real joy. As they trotted by, Jazz and Casey were like fairies scattering magic dust; leaving laughter in their wake along with exclamations of, “They’re so pretty!”, and “They look like stuffed animals!” At the second floor nurses’ station, RN’s Sarah Booth and Sy Baker, and Unit Manager, Irma Rodea, paused their work to pet and coo over the dogs. 

There have been somber moments too. On their very first visit, Chris and Judy entered the room of a five-year-old little girl. Life was ebbing away and she had been unresponsive all day. Chris asked the child’s mother if she could place Jazz on the little girl’s bed. The mother agreed, and Jazz, who normally never licks, began licking the girl’s hand. The girl moved her hand. Then Jazz moved up and began licking the little girl’s face. The child opened her eyes and her mother asked, “Do you like the dog honey? Isn’t he pretty?” The little girl responded saying she liked the dog. When it was time to leave, the girl’s mother followed Chris and Jazz into the hall and walked into Chris’s open arms sobbing. The child died that night. Because Jazz instinctively knew what to do, the mother had a few more moments with her little girl before she died. Chris and Judy said this event showed them that visiting hospice was what they and their dogs were meant to do. 

Next I trailed along with Loretta Uzick and her well-dressed Yorkshire Terriers, Cricket and Skyler. Cricket is a pro who’s been visiting Houston Hospice for one year and Skyler is an adorable four-month-old puppy in training. The nurses affectionately call Cricket a diva and look forward to her visits so they can see which outfit she’ll be wearing. When I asked Loretta if she felt any trepidation about visiting a hospice, she answered, “No, only the usual fear of the unknown.” Then she added, “I love meeting new people and I have the gift of gab. But, more important is the gift of listening. I learned listening skills in the Houston Hospice volunteer training classes and it’s the best thing I ever did. I raved about them so much that several of my friends attended the training even though they didn’t plan to become volunteers.” Loretta said patients and families enjoy visits from her Yorkies because it relieves their stress and sadness for a few minutes. “The dogs get me in the door, and once I’m in families and patients will sometimes open up and talk.” 

As I walked through the inpatient unit with Loretta, Cricket and Skyler, family members and friends of patients stopped Loretta continually to engage her in conversation. A woman from San Francisco, who was visiting her brother, showed us her iPhone filled with photos of Jazz and Casey who were lounging contentedly on her brother’s bed, snuggled against his legs. With the aid of a walker, another woman slowly emerged from a patient’s room so that she could see the dogs. After a short conversation, she returned to the bedside of the man she was visiting and began softly singing to him. When her song ended, Loretta entered the room quietly and asked if the patient would like a visit. The woman nodded and Loretta held Cricket close enough for the man to touch. 

Loretta said her most memorable visit was with her first therapy dog, GiGi, a rescued Yorkshire Terrier. They came to the room of a patient who was surrounded by family members, with some spilling into the hallway and more waiting in the nearby family room. The patient was a woman who had been unresponsive for three days. The woman’s sister asked Loretta to bring GiGi in because the patient loved dogs. Another family member objected, but eventually the sister won the argument and asked Loretta to place GiGi on the bed. The patient awakened and began speaking to GiGi. Word quickly spread and family members poured into the woman’s room to speak to her. As Loretta left, family members thanked her for giving them one more opportunity to speak to their loved one. 

My final ‘walk along’ was with Cassie Chiaro and her Yorkshire Terrier, Vala, and Brenda Chan and her Golden Retriever mix, Andie. Cassie said a former co-worker is the reason Vala is a therapy dog today. Several years ago her co-worker and friend was a patient at Houston Hospice. He was fond of Vala, so Cassie brought her to visit. When Vala snuggled with him, Cassie realized she would be a good therapy dog. Brenda became inspired to volunteer after her father-in-law was a hospice patient in Dallas. Cassie and Brenda met during Houston Hospice volunteer training, hit it off, and became partners. Together with their dogs, they visit almost every week. They have visited patients at other hospices but said it’s not the same as nonprofit Houston Hospice with its homey and peaceful environment. Cassie said, “At one hospital they place a quilt on the bed and call it ‘hospice’ but nothing has changed. It’s still a hospital. It’s not as friendly, the staff is run ragged, and there is no support from volunteers.” 

Cassie and Brenda said there have been many surprises during their years of visiting patients and families at Houston Hospice. Once, they were visiting a woman whose daughter, a classically trained vocalist, sang a stunning aria. Brenda said it was so beautiful that they struggled not to weep. However, the biggest surprise and the most moving moment occurred when a family asked them to enter the room moments after their loved one had died. The room was filled with family members who stood in reverential silence. Brenda and Cassie couldn’t believe they were invited into such a sacred and personal space; sharing the family’s last moments on earth with their loved one. 

As we neared the exit, we paused at a bench where Mindy Fleisches and her teenage son, Michael Mescon, were resting after hours of being at their loved one’s bedside. When they looked up wearily, Cassie and Brenda invited them to pet the dogs. Michael lifted Vala to his face and, as he held her nose to his, he smiled and asked if he could keep her. Mindy stroked Andie’s soft golden fur and said, “Thank you. I feel better.”

 

Houston Hospice is the primary outreach ministry of St. Christopher’s Episcopal Church, Houston. St. Christopher’s shares fifty percent of its resale shop proceeds with Houston Hospice to help fund physical, emotional and spiritual care for indigent patients.