"What do therapy dogs do?" It is a question that is often asked. It is a question with no finite answer.It is a question that I often ponder as I walk my "rounds" with my partner, Gaudry, and our team of friends. It is a question to which the answer often becomes evident when seeingthe faces of patients, staff, friends and families which light up upon seeing the dogs. The dogs bring a part of the "regular" world to the not-so-regular world of the hospital. The jingle of collars, the sound of a bark, the softness of fur, the humor of canine antics often breaks the monotony and sterility of the hospital scene. It may bring a smile, a laugh, a memory of a canine friend left at home. What more do therapy dogs do? Well, there are as many answers as there are therapy dogs. This article is about Gaudry's answer to that very question.

A little more than a year ago, Gaudry and I were greeted in the lobby of FAHC. A young woman greeted Gaudry with enthusiasm and lavish attention. While stroking Gaudry, she asked me why we were here. I gave her a brief synopsis of the Therapy Dog program and it's mission. She explained to me that her sister had been in a traumatic car accident and received extensive injuries, including a head injury. She would be a resident of the hospital for some time, and a visit from a dog would be just the thing to cheer her. So Gaudry and I began our rounds with a trip to intensive care. We checked in at the nurses station and explained our special request' for a visit with Melissa. The nurse lead us to the room where a young woman, quietly lay on the bed. Gaudry and I approached the bed, Gaudry nuzzled the woman's hand and bestowed a gentle kiss on her fingertips. Melissa very slowly opened her eyes and ever so slightly moved her fingers. Gaudry stood patiently while Melissa stroked her head then slipped back into her sleep. The nurse invited us back the next week. Needless to say we returned the next week, and the next. We began to see improvements in Melissa. She stayed alert longer, had more mobility in her hands, and would talk to Gaudry. Her sister told me that Melissa often got frustrated talking to people because her speech had been effected by the accident.

A few weeks passed and on one particular visit it became evident that Melissa wanted more than a little head rubbing and kisses on the hand. The nurse allowed Gaudry to get all the way in the bed, Melissa smiled and reached for Gaudry. As she reached forward, she began to lift her own body pulling herself into a full sitting position. Melissa sat for a long time with Gaudry cradled in her arms. She spoke softly to her and kissed her face. When it was time to go, Melissa reluctantly let go. Only with the promise of next week's visit, did she smile and let us leave. As we left the room, the nurse told me that this had been the FIRST time Melissa sat up on her own since entering the hospital!

Gaudry and I visited Melissa until her release from the hospital. At the time, I believed that was the end of the story. A year passed, and Gaudry and I were walking on Church Street when I heard someone calling her name. I looked up to see a smiling young woman running up Church Street, heading right for us. She dropped to her knees in front of Gaudry, hugging and kissing her. She laughed as Gaudry licked the tears that ran down her face. When the young woman's friend sheepishly approached, Melissa exclaimed, "This is my Therapy Dog. THIS is what got me through all those weeks in the hospital!"

Now I have the answer to the question. What do Therapy dogs do...MIRACLES!