Boone
 

     It became very obvious very soon after Boone’s arrival in our home that he had a few little quirks, some anxieties that may or may not have been related to his early months spent in an Iowa puppymill. But from the very first minute we met him, he was always exceptionally friendly. He’s a very gentle and fun-loving dog and, like many golden retrievers, he’s a serious attention seeker. He actively seeks out his human family and is always underfoot, most content if he is sprawled across the kitchen floor as I prepare dinner, or stretched across the bed snoozing as I do some late night reading. But Boone is nervous, fearful of some common things like thunderstorms, vacuum cleaners, and almost all other loud noises, especially fireworks. My husband had hopes of Boone developing into a hunter but those hopes were dashed when it became painfully obvious just how gun-shy he was. Boone even runs in the other direction at the mere sight of the gun case as Mike prepares for his hunting outings. But some of his fears seem more unusual. He always gives trashcans a wide berth on our daily walks. The crossing arms at the nearby railroad crossing descended one day as we approached and Boone nearly jumped out of his skin!
     Shortly after Boone arrived in our home, I read some literature about the local pet therapy program and realized that, although Boone would never be a hunter, he certainly had the potential to bring joy to many more lives besides those of our family. I worked hard with Boone training him at home to meet the criteria of the Canine Good Citizen exam, a requirement for becoming a pet therapy dog. He was an amazingly quick study, so easy to train and so eager to please. At the tender age of 18 months, he passed his exam. In a crowded room full of other dogs, he was focused, confident, and not one bit nervous or anxious. He passed with flying colors on his first try!
     Since that time, Boone and I have made numerous visits to hospitals, nursing homes, and schools, and it is beyond heartwarming to watch the joy this dog brings to others. This sometimes anxious, nervous dog can go to the local children’s museum on a crowded Saturday afternoon and have a wagging tail and a cold nose for each child that approaches him. He’s very gentle at the nursing home. The smiles of the elderly as they reminisce about dogs in their past while they cradle Boone’s head in their lap is enough to bring a tear to any eye.
     Boone and I visit the nursing home regularly and are always welcomed with open arms. Even the folks who tell me that "dogs belong in the barn" can't seem to resist rubbing Boone's head, or giving him a quick pat. A recent experience at the nursing home reminded me all over again about the simple power that Boone brings along on his visits.
     We stopped to visit at the nurse's desk as we do on each and every visit because of course they are the keepers of the doggie treats. So Boone was enjoying their attention and his fair share of the treats when I noticed a man, a fairly young man for this nursing home approaching us in a wheelchair. As he got closer, he urged the orderly to our side of the hall where he reached out to Boone with an eagerness that I had rarely seen before. Boone was very accommodating and put his head in the gentleman's lap. As the man began to stroke his head and ears, his head fell closer and closer to Boone's until his head was resting on top of the dog. He stayed like this momentarily, then began quietly sobbing. He told me then about his Springer spaniel, his faithful hunting companion that he had owned since he was a pup. A tragic accident had brought this man to the nursing home for an extended stay. And apparently the only family this man had was this Springer. Unfortunately, he had no friends who were able to care for the dog so the dog was in a kennel for the duration of this man's nursing home stay. The intensity of the feelings that the man had for this dog were so evident, my heart wept for him. On a recent return visit, I inquired about the man and was relieved to hear that he had been discharged and is once again at home in the company of his good and faithful dog.
     Boone and I, along with many of our other local pet therapy dogs, also had the opportunity to act as "greeters" at our local community Thanksgiving dinner this year. This dinner is a community event that welcomes people from all walks of life to join together and celebrate the holiday. I met so many wonderful people that day and people were so appreciative of the dogs and their chance to visit with them. One particular man stands out in my mind. He was in his early 20's, well dressed, kind, and a big fan of golden retrievers. We talked at length about his childhood and his family, how they had never been without a dog, and that dog was usually a golden. Now that he was on his own, he was looking forward to the chance to get one of his own. I shared Boone's story of adoption from a rescue organization and encouraged him to look into this option if he was truly interested in getting a dog. He looked at me with honest, sincere eyes and told me that he was unable to get a dog right now because he was currently homeless. He was spending most of his nights at the local Salvation Army, and most of his days looking for work. I thought that I knew what the face of homelessness in this nation looked like but I learned that day how very wrong I was.
     With Boone at my side, I've had the opportunity to learn allot. I've learned how much dog lovers, particularly lovers of goldens have in common. It's easy to share stories about the love of an animal with someone who understands that love only too well. I've had the chance to meet so many kind and wonderful people, most of whom I probably would never have had the chance to speak with. It's as if Boone has the power to allow people to open up, to share what they otherwise would want kept to themselves.
     I've also learned what a special dog Boone is. He is a study in contrasts, to be sure. He has his little quirks and anxieties but he also seems to be aware of his calling. He seems to know that when I place his bandanna around his neck, he's working. And he seems to know exactly what that work is.