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The most accepted terms for this field are Animal-Assisted Therapy (AAT) and Animal-Assisted Activities (AAA). AAT involves
working with someone when a specific goal has been identified. If you do this as a
volunteer, you will work with a professional who will assist you in selecting goals for
different individuals. AAA are those activities designed to strengthen someone's quality
of life. Usually performed by volunteers, they are generally "meet and greet"
activities.
Meet Golden Shana
 A Tribute
to a 14-Year Partnership
I took a deep breath as
I entered the whelping room. Eight puppy eyes looked up
at me, but one drew my attention more than the others. You were the one who was sitting atop the big spare tire
that lay in the middle of the whelping box. I watched
with interest and amusement as you
determinately conquered the huge obstacle. You didn’t
give up despite repeatedly sliding off, until you
successfully sat on top. Quite impressive for a 5 week
old puppy. When I came closer you leapt off the tire,
pushing your fuzzy round little body through the pack to
reach my outstretched hand. The breeder gave me second
pick of the litter. I chose you and another pup on
which to temperament test. The results were close. You
both displayed confidence, curiosity, attentiveness and
a willingness to follow my lead even if it meant having
to leave something more interesting. Something clicked
however, when I picked you up. Kisses, puppy breath and
an unspoken agreement about respect and unconditional
love were exchanged at that moment and a bond was
formed. Three weeks later, when you were 8 weeks old, I
returned to take you home and one of the greatest
journeys of my life began.
Shana
is my first and only Golden and my inveterate
companion. Her registered name is
Taygold’s
Shana Theora, chosen for the Hebrew
meaning for “beautiful” (Shana) and the Greek for
“watcher” or “companion” (Theora). To this day she has
lived up to her name. She has aged well and still
possesses a coat shining gold and radiant complimented
by a face now white with wisdom. Her eyes still sparkle
with excite ment for life and over the years have become
the conduit by which we communicate, especially now that
her sense of hearing is almost exhausted. These eyes
also keep me close. Shana rarely lets me out of her
sight and is a master of keen, quiet observation.
 On the way home from our
very first “visit” as a team, my mind returned again and
again to the vision of you surrounded by a classroom of
grade 2 kids. There you were, smack in the middle of
excited adoring active children and you maintained
perfect composure and excellent manners. I knew then
that you were capable of much more than being my
constant companion. My vision fast forwarded to how you
would only improve with age. This coupled with my
intense interest in animal-assisted therapy ignited a
flame that has proven undistinguishable. That was 10
years and thousands of hours ago of therapy work
together.
I
want so much to pay tribute and say thank you to Shana
for all she’s given me and other people over the years.
My heart is full of her. Just recently, as I faced the
dark inevitability of Shana’s passing for a second time,
my dear friend Dot Dill reminded me that Shana helped me
to discover and expand the human/animal bond. I realize
that in some way, each visit that I go on now with my
third therapy dog is because of Shana. Nothing I can
say or write can adequately express how Shana has
affected my heart nor how much I treasure our time
together. Now more than ever, as Shana’s journey to
Rainbow Bridge comes closer,
 I find myself reflecting on
times past instead of envisioning times to come as I did
before. What a grand learning
experience this has been and continues to be.
Thankfully, memories enable Shana to remain young and
vibrant in my mind and part of my tribute is to relive
some of the more outstanding ones for this story.
Child ren in the
classroom, patients in the hospital, elderly residents
in the assisted living center, clients in an office,
students in a workshop…..Shana was faithful in providing
unconditional acceptance and intuitive attention to them
all regardless of age, malady, their ability to interact
with her or their level of interest in her. I can’t
possibly single out which experiences to write about on
the basis of being special, because every visit was in
its own way special. What I’ve chosen to do is identify
three of Shana’s most outstanding therapy dog qualities
and relate three experiences in which they were most
vividly displayed. Shana’s outstanding qualities
include intuitiveness, tolerance and joy in her work.
Intuitiveness.
The waiting area at the CSU Veterinary Teaching Hospital
in Ft. Collins was fairly full one particular morning.
Shana and I were no strangers to this place, having come
here many times after she was diagnosed and treated for
cancer. We were there on this morning because I was
dropping Shana off for another surgery to remove a
broken molar. As I looked around the room there were a
number of dogs, mostly Goldens and Greyhounds, waiting
with their persons. Some were anxiously
 whining,
some were just lying there too weak or broken spirited
to expend any energy. Some smaller dogs were being held
so closely and tightly they appeared uncomfortable. I
wondered how many people in the room were going through
the same agonizing experience that I did of being faced
with the probability of cancer taking away their beloved
companion. Regardless of what they were there for, not
one person’s demeanor reflected joy. Portraits of
apprehension, deep concern and heartfelt sorrow
abounded. Shana, despite being in a place that always
seemed to be a source of pain and discomfort for her,
treated this visit as she did every other – it was a new
and exciting adventure. She was the most perky dog in
the waiting area, something I was almost embarrassed by
considering the sorry state of the other dogs. She
seemed very eager to “do” something and since we were in
a waiting area that was not all that different than a
waiting area in a hospital, she was in “therapy dog”
mode and I sensed she felt a need to spread some cheer
amongst the gloom. Needing some cheering up myself, as
I was concerne d
about Shana’s impending surgery at her advanced age of
11, I relented and, pretending to get up and look for a
magazine to read, I allowed Shana to “work the room”.
Eager hands reached out and frowns melted into smiles
and, for a moment people forgot about their cares and
were amused by this friendly, carefree Golden trotting
past them with her tail held high and wagging.
Interestingly enough, Shana chose not to stop at any one
person for any length of time. Instead, she mostly
sniffed and some people were given a quick lick. But
then everything changed. Shana approached one woman, and
stopped and sat by her side. Only when the woman reached
out to her did Shana respond with a paw on her knee and
a loving Golden smile. As I often did when we were
visiting in the hospital, I let the moment unfold in
silence without attempting to alter it with needless
chatter. Shana stayed by her side as the woman stroked
her over and over again. This was clearly one of
those moments when time seemed to stand still and no one
else existed except the woman, Shana, and me. At this
point, Shana was called. It was time for her to go to be
prepared for surgery. Before we left the woman however,
I was compelled to ask, “Are you okay?”. She looked up
and the tears welled in her eyes as she told me, “My dog
just died.” As I was telling her how sorry I was
to hear that, the vet tech was taking Shana from me. I
gave my old girl a quick kiss and left her with
instructions to be sure to return. I held her soft
Golden head in both my hands and whispered into her ear,
“You did a good thing for that lady.” I watched as
the tech walked my old partner down the hall to the
double doors of the clinic. She trotted along
compliantly, tail held high and wagging even on the way
to the operating room. She sneaked a look back at me.
How she knew in that waiting room full of people which
person needed her the most, I’ll never be able to
explain. What I do know is that Shana has astounded me
many times with her marvelous intuition.
Tolerance. As I
entered the Day Room of the Psychiatric Unit, escorted
by the Lead Therapist, I became keenly aware that I had
entered into an AAT situation that was complex and
highly unpredictable. I needed to pay extra attention to
everything going on around me, including the reactions
of Shana, to ensure a safe and effective visit.
Pre-screened
patients were seated in a circle around the room. Shana
and I went from chair to chair, interacting with each
patient under the guidance of the therapist, who
carefully observed and documented the impact of my
therapy dog. It was a demanding environment for both me
and Shana. Each patient presented with different
symptoms as a result of a variety of disorders, some
patients having multiple disorders. This required that
we adapt differently to each person, working very hard
to look beyond their disorder and reach the person
within. One of the patients was
enjoying a rather lengthy petting session with Shana. I
watched both Shana and the patient very closely for any
sudden change in behavior. Suddenly, the patient grabbed
Shana’s vest, manipulating it roughly, and held her
tightly to him. As patient and tolerant as Shana is, I
knew that I would need to manage the situation so that
the patient’s aggressiveness would not escalate and that
Shana would not be hurt or traumatized. She began to
pant as her stress level increased but she maintained
focus on the task at hand and did not attempt to leave
the situation. Instead, she looked at me and as she so
often did, communicated very clearly with her eyes. She
placed complete trust in me to get her out of harm’s
way.
Respecting the
therapist’s responsibility to diffuse the situation, I
told her that if this patient did not let go within a
few seconds, Shana could be in danger of being harmed.
Her attempt at verbally and then physically trying to
break the patient’s hold on Shana was ineffective – the
patient only became more agitated and increased his grip
on the vest. My sole focus and concern then became that
of my partner. Within seconds, I was able to release
Shana by undoing the quick release tabs on her vest and
pulling her toward me. The patient continued to hold the
vest but Shana was safe in my arms. In that situation,
she could have chosen to react differently in order to
get away. Instead, she chose to trust me and exercised
amazing tolerance in what could have been a very
dangerous situation for her.
|Joy.
 One
particular attribute that exemplifies a stellar therapy
dog is that they actively seek interaction. Not only
does Shana actively seek interaction, she does so with
great joy. Her Delta Society therapy dog vest hangs on a
hook by the front door. To this day, if I take her vest
off the hook she springs into action and stands ready to
have it slipped on so she can go to work. I’m very
careful not to put on my current therapy dog’s vest (my
black Lab, Rigo), until I’m out of the house and away
from Shana’s watchful eye. Even though I strategically
phased Shana out of therapy work and into retirement,
she still takes great joy in visiting and can become
depressed if she sees me leaving the house to go to work
with one of the other dogs. She dons her vest every once
in awhile to visit a friend’s house or even one of the
family when they’re sick, just to remain somewhat active
as a therapy dog. Joy is an attribute
that permeates Shana’s being. True to Golden form, she
takes great joy in eating and is likely frustrated by
the fact that I have
her on a carefully controlled diet fed twice a day at
specific times only. To see her smiling face, even at
the age of 14, when we go for a walk together, just her
and me, is an expression of sheer joy. To observe her
reactions to being groomed (bathed and brushed), is
clearly joy as evidenced by closed eyes and a “died and
gone to heaven” smile. Shana’s greatest joy however, is
definitely expressed when she’s working as a therapy
dog. She never walked, rather she ran to have her vest
put on, such was her eagerness and joy to go to work. If
a dog can be said to work with a passion, Shana thrives
on visiting. I think she figured out a long time ago
that the more affection one gives out, even more is
returned. Shana grew up to be
all I hoped for and more. I remember carrying her up
the stairs when she was a pup. Now, as she has grown
old, I help her up the stairs again. Looking back on
my journeys with her as a therapy partner, I have some
wonderful thoughts of times shared with patients and
school children and events made especially important
because my life was touched in a deep and unforgettable
way. Memories are a wonderful gift. Through them we
can keep important parts of life close to our hearts.
There is one memory that will last forever, the one that
not only touched my heart but changed it forever. This
is a moment that I experience with each one of my dogs.
The moment that I realized that Shana trusted me will
always stay with me. With her, this moment occurred
when I first helped her chubby little legs up the stairs
when she was learning how to conquer them. Trust has
proven time and time again to be the foundation for our
amazing partnership over so many years. I have
experienced Shana’s trust in me many times over as we
visited countless new and strange environments and, most
recently, as I helped her arthritic legs up the stairs
this morning. This ability to resist her own
independence and allow room for vulnerability to follow
my will is something that I have never abused.
 It
nearly broke my heart to retire Shana as my therapy
partner. When she was 12, I began to notice less
tolerance for visiting with children,
especially those who wanted to crawl all over her. She
began to tire after visiting for only 1 hour whereas, in
her prime, she still had energy left over after 2 ½
hours of visiting. Visits to hospital rooms became
shorter and shorter as Shana would decide it was time to
leave by facing the exit after only a few minutes with a
patient. I distinctly remember being in the stairwell
with Shana at Swedish Medical Center, where we visited
weekly, and she had difficulty doing the stairs that she
not so long before had sailed up with ease. I tearfully
decided then, that that day would be her last at Swedish
as my heart accepted what my head had known for awhile –
it was time to retire my partner . Knowing Shana, she
probably stoically climbed those stairs with me longer
than she wanted to but she tolerated it for me. In
September of 2003, Shana retired at the ripe age of 12.
In the year following retirement, Shana unfairly
suffered ill health after giving of herself so
unconditionally for so many years. She survived a
serious bout of Lyme’s Disease which nearly left her
vision impaired and lame. She suffered a stroke which
has left her with permanent balance issues. She dodged
the cancer bullet for a second time just this past fall
when, with grave concern over tumorous lesions in her
mouth, which the biopsy this time confirmed, as
thankfully, benign. Today, at the age of 14, her
hearing is almost gone but her vision is great as is her
desire to enjoy life to the fullest. Therapy did away
with the lameness from Lyme’s and despite weakening
arthritic back legs, we still enjoy our daily walk
together, albeit the distance is shorter than in
previous years. What has remained unchanged is Shana’s
heart of gold which is full of unconditional acceptance,
unwavering loyalty, and complete devotion. Shana, I can’t bring
myself to imagine a day without you in it - when I won’t
see your joyful smile, hear your happy bark, feel your
soft fur, or sense the weight of your head on my lap.
What an unforgettable, awesome journey this has been.
I’ll never forget all of our amazing adventures. My
love for you will never change. Happy Birthday Sweet
Girl! (Shana was 14 years old on January 28, 2005).
SHANA MCQUARRIE
January 28, 1991 – September 16, 2005
Loyal Companion –Faithful Friend – Devoted
Partner
"All that we’ve shared is woven in our hearts,
each thread is a memory from which we will never
part." Our dear Shana took her last breath lovingly
embraced in our arms. We miss her so very
much. Her familiar spots where she always lay
are painfully bare. What we wouldn’t give to
feel her gentle nudge, see her smiling face, or
hear her happy bark just one more time……
Shana
taught us many things…..she lived in the present
moment and, to her final breath, she offered
herself to it fully without reserve. She
communicated volumes without saying a word,
teaching a capacity for openness that is
perceptive and life-giving. In giving of
herself so unselfishly, she exemplified what it
means to be truly authentic. I didn’t realize
until she was gone the immense role that Shana
played in what I’ve become. Her ever-affirming
presence is now a gaping hole. I was fortunate
to be able to include Shana in my work and this
had a tremendous impact on the depth of our
relationship. With each day, the familiarity and
ease that developed between us evolved into an
unspoken harmony.
The depth of our experience with Shana is of
immeasurable value and, ultimately, we believe
that something of such great value will never be
lost. With this hope, the eternal must surely
be present in her. "All that we’ve shared is
woven in our hearts, each thread is a memory
from which we will never part."
—
Diana & Ken Donations in
Shana's honor can be made to the
Morris Animal Foundation, a non-profit
foundation that funds humane animal health
studies to advance veterinary medicine. To
donate, please go to
this page and select the option
"I would
like to memorialize a pet" and complete the
form. Thank you!
Reprinted with permission by Diana M. McQuarrie, Executive Director,
Denver Pet Partners, (303) 948-6363
(office) / (720) 359-5421 (fax)
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