Riley, my therapy dog, has been accompanying me through my visits to the hospital for several months. His golden retriever coat is as fluffy as a cloud, and he is a happy and positive dog. When they saw his kind eyes and wagging tail, the majority of patients would grin and reach out to pet him. Their faces would light up with excitement.
However, today was not like today.
The nurses escorted us into a room that was silent and had a dim lighting. On the bed, an elderly gentleman by the name of Mr. Callahan was lying motionless and stared blankly at the ceiling overhead. His appearance was one of exhaustion and disorientation, as if he hadn’t communicated in decades.
It was mentioned by one of the nurses, “He hasn’t responded to anyone over the past few weeks.” It’s possible that Riley can be of assistance.
I indicated to Riley that she should proceed by nodding my head. Riley leaped onto the bed without any hesitation, and he positioned his head gently on Mr. Callahan’s chest without making any noise. There was complete silence in the room, and we all waited with our breath being held.
Following that, a change occurred.
Mr. Callahan inhaled deeply and did so with trembling. Before cautiously reaching out to touch Riley’s fur, his fingers began to twitch at the same time. A tear trickled down his wrinkled face as he murmured, “Good boy.” He was really moved.
I heard the nurse gasp. The intensity of my feelings caused my eyes to sting. Then, however, Mr. Callahan made a statement that none of us had anticipated.
“Marigold…” he mumbled, the word slipping from his mouth as if it had been imprisoned for a number of years.
The question “Marigold?” I enquired in a low voice, uncertain as to whether or not I had correctly heard him.
The moment his eyes met mine, he appeared to be alive and awake for a brief time. He spoke with a voice that was hoarse yet clear, and he said, “She used to bring me marigolds every Sunday.” “That they were a perfect match for my hair when I was younger. And even after that, she never failed to bring them.” His voice fell, weighed down by the anguish of recollections from the past.
The nurse who was standing next to me murmured, “He hasn’t mentioned the name of anyone in months.” Ever since… ”
Riley cocked his head to the side and let out a soft whine as he became aware of the melancholy that pervaded the room. It appeared like Mr. Callahan noticed Riley, and he patted her on the side. “I can’t help but think of her,” he continued, his gaze becoming more kind. The manner in which you gaze upon your puppy. Also, Eleanor had a soft spot for them.
It was a lump in my throat, and I swallowed it. Who was Eleanor, exactly? I enquired in a soft voice.
While he was speaking, Mr. Callahan’s shoulders began to relax slightly. “She was my wife,” I said. We were raised together in a suburban community. After graduating from high school, we were married, despite the fact that everyone thought we were too young. However, it was successful. For half a century, it was successful.
Despite the fact that his voice was full with love, there was anguish hidden beneath the surface. I was able to sense it.
What just took place? I enquired, not knowing whether or not he would respond.
Both of his eyes became cloudy. She succumbed to cancer. It was two years ago. I didn’t get the impression that it was a speedy process, despite what they said. When you see someone you care about pass away, it seems like it will last forever. As he continued, his hands could be seen shaking. After she had left, everything seemed to be devoid of emotion. I ceased my conversation. Quit caring about it. Even the marigolds that were growing in our garden perished because I was unable to muster the motivation to water them any longer.
In an effort to provide Mr. Callahan with some solace, Riley gently tapped his palm. In a feeble manner, Mr. Callahan laughed. “You are a stickler, aren’t you? Same as Eleanor, in fact.”
After then, a thought started to form in my head. Perhaps Riley was present for a specific reason. Dogs have a unique ability to connect with people, uncovering the suffering that we try to hide and assisting us in the healing process. Additionally, it is possible that Riley was intended to assist Mr. Callahan in his recovery.
Riley was the focus of Mr. Callahan’s attention once again. Eleanor has always had a strong desire to have a dog. We were never able to accommodate one. She had a deep affection for him. He stared at me with eyes that were bright with tears that had not yet been shed. Possibly, she dispatched him to look for me.
Neither magic nor miracles were mentioned in his assertions. It was simply the way that he found solace in the idea that love could endure beyond the confines of existence. that Eleanor was still keeping an eye out for him in some shape or form.
Would you be able to take me outside? All of a sudden, Mr. Callahan enquired. As he spoke, his voice was trembling but resolute. In the past few weeks, I have not been out.
I couldn’t help but look over at the nurse, who gave a satisfied nod. While assisting him to sit up, I responded, “Of course.” We made our way to the courtyard of the hospital, with Riley serving as our guide with a smile on his face.
The sky was painted with many tones of pink and orange as the sun was falling below the horizon. A widening of Mr. Callahan’s eyes occurred as he took in the crisp air and the vibrant colours of the twilight light. As we made our way gently towards the bench that was surrounded by flower beds, we walked slowly. Mr. Callahan came to a halt and pointed to a collection of blooms that were bright yellow in colour.
The words “Marigolds” came out of his mouth in a hushed whisper. In this location, marigolds were planted.
With a gentle touch, he extended his hand and touched the petals. The tears that spilt down his face were tears of gratitude and nostalgia, but they were tears nonetheless. However, the flowers also brought something else with them, and that was hope. They brought back memories of Eleanor.
As I was tucking Riley into his bed at home later that night, I couldn’t stop thinking about what had transpired since the previous evening. Getting Mr. Callahan to converse once more was not the only goal of this endeavour. The goal was to assist him in regaining something that he had misplaced, specifically a sense of tranquilly and a connection to the love that he still harboured within him.
In addition to bringing delight to a man who was suffering, Riley had done much more than that. As a result of his assistance, Mr. Callahan was able to recall that love does not simply go. Despite the fact that the people we love are no longer with us, it continues to be with us.
There are many losses, both large and minor, throughout life. Occasionally, we are deprived of people, dreams, or even aspects of ourselves. On the other hand, to heal does not imply to forget. Finding new methods to carry those we’ve lost with us is what it means to do this. Love has a way of reaching us when we are in the most desperate need of it, whether it be through a memory, a flower, or the soft touch of a therapy dog as one example.
The following time we went to see Mr. Callahan, he was seated by the window, and he had a small pot of marigolds at his side. Better and more present was his appearance. When he saw Riley and me, he broke into a smile.
The only thing he said was, “Thank you.” “Because you did bring me back.”
When that moment came, I realised that Riley and I were not only working for a living. It was a means of healing, of bringing light to those who were experiencing the greatest need for it.
If you felt moved by this tale, please feel free to share it with others. Love and kindness have the power to cure even the most severe wounds, as this serves as a reminder. Furthermore, that there are occasions when the soft touch of a dog is all that is required to bring someone back to life.