Riley, my therapy dog, had been accompanying me to the hospital for a time period of several months. His fur is as silky as a cloud, and he is a charming golden retriever. When they saw his loving eyes and wagging tail, the majority of patients would grin and reach out to pet him. Their faces would light up!
However, things were different today.
A darkly lit area with a low level of noise was where the nurses escorted us. An elderly gentleman by the name of Mr. Callahan was lying motionless on the bed, staring blankly at the ceiling around him. It appeared as though he had not talked for a very long period, since he appeared exhausted and disoriented.
“He hasn’t responded to anyone for weeks,” murmured one of the nurses. “He has lost all communication.” Perhaps Riley can be of assistance.
The signal to proceed was given to Riley by my nod. Riley jumped onto the bed without any hesitation, delicately placing his head on Mr. Callahan’s chest and resting his head there. The atmosphere in the room was very silent, and we all waited with our breath held.
In that moment, something shifted.
A deep breath was taken by Mr. Callahan, and it was wobbly. He made a careful, deliberate effort to touch Riley’s fur, and his fingers began to twitch. In a low murmur, he said, “Good boy,” as a tear trickled down his wrinkled face.
The nurse let out a gasp. As a result of my feelings, my eyes hurt. However, Mr. Callahan surprised all of us by saying something that we had not anticipated.
He mumbled, “Marigold,” and the word seemed to escape from its confinement as if it had been held captive for many years.
Are you Marigold? I questioned in a low voice, questioning whether or not I had correctly heard him.
There was a brief moment when his eyes met mine, and he appeared to be alive and alert. In a voice that was hoarse yet clear, he stated, “She used to bring me marigolds every Sunday.” “Said that they were made to look like my hair when I was younger. Despite the fact that… she never failed to bring them.” The anguish of long-forgotten recollections made his voice weaken and fade away.
“He hasn’t said anyone’s name in months,” the nurse who was standing next to me murmured through her whisper. Not since… “…
When Riley became aware of the melancholy that pervaded the space, he cocked his head to the side and let out a soft whine. Riley received a pat on the side from Mr. Callahan, who appeared to have noticed. According to him, “You remind me of her,” he added, his gaze becoming more gentle. When you look at your dog, it’s quite interesting. Even Eleanor had a soft spot for animals.
When I felt a lump in my throat, I swallowed it. “Who exactly was Eleanor?” It was a gentle question.
When Mr. Callahan began to speak, his shoulders began to relax slightly. It was my wife at the time. Both of us spent our childhoods in the same little town. We got married shortly after we graduated from high school, despite the fact that everyone thought we were too young. But it was successful. It was successful over a period of fifty years.
The love that he expressed in his voice was masked by the pain that was hidden under the surface. It was noticeable to me.
When did this take place? When I enquired, I was uncertain whether he would respond.
There was a cloudiness in his eyes. She was taken by cancer. Around two years ago. They claimed that it was a rapid process, but I didn’t get the impression that it was. It feels like forever when you watch someone you love slowly disappear from your life. The shaking in his hands continued as he proceeded. As soon as she left, everything seemed to be devoid of any energy. Suddenly, I ceased my speech. Stopped caring about it. I was unable to get the motivation to water the marigolds in our garden, and as a result, they all perished.
By gently nudging Mr. Callahan’s hand, Riley attempted to provide him with some solace. A feeble chuckle emanated from Mr. Callahan. Isn’t it true that you are persistent? In the same vein as Eleanor.”
At that moment, a thought was triggered in my head. Presumably, Riley was present for a specific purpose. Dogs have a unique means of connecting with people, discovering the suffering that we try to conceal, and assisting us in the process of healing. And perhaps, just possibly, Riley was supposed to be the one to assist Mr. Callahan in his recovery.
After a moment, Mr. Callahan’s gaze finally returned to Riley. You should know that Eleanor has always desired to have a dog. As a result, we never had room for one. Certainly, she would have liked him. His eyes shone with tears that had not yet been released as he stared at me. “It’s possible that she’s sent him to look for me.”
His words did not contain any references to magic or miracles. The idea that love may last beyond the confines of life was just a source of solace for him. I was under the impression that Eleanor was still keeping an eye out for him.
“Are you able to come outside with me?” Suddenly, Mr. Callahan posed the question. He spoke with a voice that was trembling but resolute. It’s been weeks since I’ve been out and about.
I cast a quick peek in the direction of the nurse, who gave a satisfied nod. My response was, “Of course,” as I assisted him in sitting up. We made our way to the courtyard leading to the hospital, with Riley leading the way with a smile on his face.
The sun was beginning to set, colouring the sky with various tones of pink and orange throughout this time. Taking in the crisp air and the vibrant colours of the twilight, Mr. Callahan’s eyes opened in awe. We took our time and strolled gently till we arrived at a bench that was surrounded by flower beds. Mr. Callahan came to a halt and pointed to a collection of blooms that were very vivid yellow.
“Marigolds,” he murmured, his voice breaking as he spoke his words. It is said that marigolds were planted here.
He extended his hand and lightly caressed the petals at the same time. It was tears of appreciation and memories that spilt down his face, but they were tears not of anger. Hope was brought to mind in addition to the memories of Eleanor that were brought back by the flowers.
I was unable to stop thinking about what had transpired later that evening, when I was tucking Riley into his bed at home. It was not simply a matter of getting Mr. Callahan to engage in conversation once more. It was about assisting him in regaining something that he had misplaced, such as a sense of tranquilly and a connection to the love that he still managed to carry within him.
He had done more than just bring joy to a man who was suffering. Riley had done more than that. The fact that love does not simply vanish was something that he had assisted Mr. Callahan in remembering. In spite of the fact that the people we care about are no longer around us, it continues to endure.
Loss, both large and small, is an inevitable part of life. At times, we may experience the loss of individuals, dreams, or even aspects of ourselves. On the other hand, mending does not imply forgetting. It entails coming up with novel approaches to carry people who have passed away with us. Love has a way of finding us when we are desperately in need of it, whether it is through a memory, a flower, or the soft touch of a therapy dog.
There was a small pot of marigolds by Mr. Callahan’s side when we went to see him the next time. He was sitting by the window. He seemed to be in better shape and more present. He got a grin on his face when he saw Riley and me.
He uttered the simple phrase, “Thank you.” “For bringing me back,” she said.
When I was in that moment, I realised that what Riley and I were doing was more than simply a job. People who were in the greatest need of light were brought into the light through this method of treatment.
Please feel free to share this tale with others if it moved you emotionally. This serves as a reminder that love and kindness have the power to heal even the most hurtful wounds. When it comes to bringing someone back to life, sometimes all it takes is a simple touch from a dog.”
