Standing in the waiting room of the Pennington Cancer Center on a Tuesday morning is Cole, a 180 pound English mastiff who sleeps on a queen size futon when he’s not corralling the neighborhood children and helping them onto the Smith family trampoline.
Cole is on the job today taking cues from his owner, a sixth grader Nick Smith. Nick and his parents became involved with Tiger H.A.T.S, the LSU School of Veterinary Medicine’s Human Animal Therapy Services program, shortly after adopting a malnourished Cole from Mastiff Rescue in North Carolina. Just add a saddle and this dog may as well be a horse, though Nick assures me that Cole is the quintessential “Nana” from Peter Pan, whose gentle and patient demeanor is ideal therapy pet material.
Cole is joined by two colleagues: Nash, a long-haired auburn dachshund, and Scarlett O’Hara, a strawberry blonde golden retriever.
“Isn’t he beautiful?” Roger Lea Nolan says as she reaches toward Nash. Nolan is awaiting her first round of radiation after enduring four chemo treatments.
Maria Ferrer, who has just finished her treatment, sits in a wheelchair not too far from Nolan. Stephanie Johnson, owner of Nash and founder of the Tiger H.A.T.S program, holds the dachshund eye level with Nolan and Ferrer. Nash welcomes the attention he receives. Scarlett O’Hara is standing by Ferrer who smiles, cups the dog’s cheeks between her palms and kisses her forehead. Ferrer’s daughter explains that her mother was very recently diagnosed with brain cancer. The night of her diagnosis, two therapy pets visited her room bringing Ferrer a joyful distraction. Ferrer’s daughter, who is an ER nurse, smiles between tears as she recalls the simple and selfless comfort brought to her mother.
Twenty-one years ago, Stephanie Johnson was finishing up a one-year social work internship at LSU. “I wasn’t ready to leave,” she said, and while her particular internship had a firm end date, her professor said she could stay on a second year if she could come up with a worthwhile project. That’s when Johnson came up with the idea for Tiger H.A.T.S, a project which obviously has extended well beyond her bonus internship year.
Johnson, who is also an instructor in the School of Veterinary Medicine, found inspiration in Cricket, her late black cocker spaniel she refers to as her “muse.” Cricket’s personality epitomized what it takes to become a therapy pet—calm, yet incredibly social. Prospective therapy pets must take and pass a temperament test, which subjects the animal to a variety of stressors. Incessant licking, mouthing, or even withdrawn, shy behavior will disqualify a pet from getting the gig. The ideal therapy pet is interested in human interaction and doesn’t possess traits that could be harmful to people.
Currently, H.A.T.S therapy pets include only dogs, though in the past, they have employed cats, a rabbit, bird, and even a turtle. “A ferret took a temperament test once,” Johnson said, “but he didn’t advance.”
Typically, therapy animals are pets of the volunteers themselves. Volunteers visit one of fourteen different approved locations during designated times. Therapy animals and their volunteers, for example, will visit the waiting room at Pennington Cancer Center or the ICU at Our Lady of the Lake Children’s Unit. The ultimate goal is to “give patients a break from their day,” Johnson says. “Therapy animals bring unconditional, positive regard to the situation and are not motivated by anything.”
The dogs are humble celebrities wherever they go. As we travel to the Outpatient Infusion room of Pennington Cancer Center, Cole, Nash and Scarlett O’Hara are greeted with squeals of delight as they pass by staff members. Joseph Valenti (“It’s ‘V’ as in victory,” he says after introducing himself, which seems apt given his current battle against brain cancer) has experienced the therapy dogs a couple times during the sixteen months he has been receiving treatment at Pennington. “It’s a good thing that gives you a really good feeling,” he says.
Jennifer Morgan coos at Nash, who seems entirely content lying in Johnson’s arms. “He is so fine!” Morgan says in the midst of explaining that this bout of chemo is her fifth go around. What began with breast cancer twenty years ago has over time spread to the bone, liver and brain. “I’m never giving up,” she says matter-of-factly. “This is not a death sentence.” Nash watches Morgan as she talks. Morgan occasionally lifts her hand to meet Nash, who affectionately gives a little lick on her hand. “Live your life. Dream your dream,” she says.
Therapy animals also serve elderly people in retirement homes who may not be physically ill but benefit from mental stimulation. The pets can help these residents reminisce about childhood pets and recall past events. Comments from doctors, nurses and staff personnel let Johnson know that the program is working. Tiger H.A.T.S volunteers expect to see smiles, but it isn’t until a staff member comes to them and says, “How’d you do that?” that they can fully grasp the change in patient behavior that comes from having interacted with a therapy pet. Sometimes it is a smile after days of melancholy. Other times it is articulate clear speech after weeks of strained verbalization.
Johnson has found that the animals benefit the staff members as much as they do the patients. Many hospital staff members eagerly await their next visit from H.A.T.S volunteers. Research from the Delta Society Pet Partners organization shows that interactions with animals can have a positive physiological and psychological effect, lowering blood pressure, heart rate and even triglycerides. Dr. Edward Creagan, an oncologist at the Mayo Clinic, says, “A pet is a medication without side effects that has so many benefits.” For children, interaction with pets can enhance self-esteem and teach responsibility and respect. Children who interact with an animal during a therapy or treatment session may show significant health improvements.
Later that day, Nash is back on the job at Our Lake of the Lake Children’s Unit with Sammy, a Blenheim Cavalier King Charles spaniel, and Duncan, a black Scottish terrier. The trio enters pre-approved rooms guided by Katie, a Child Life specialist. Kaleigha, who is wearing a lime green sundress covered in ladybugs and whose bed is engulfed in toys, stands to meet the three visitors. She giggles, smiles, and reaches out to pet Sammy. The volunteers and Kaleigha’s mother watch this beautiful moment, and for a second, everyone, most of all the little girl herself, forget that she is connected to an IV drip that her mother pushes behind her. Sammy’s owner, Laurie, says quietly, “They can get out of themselves.” She pauses to watch her spaniel wag his tail and deliver unconditional affection to the girl. “Changes a person, doesn’t it?”
Details. Details. Details.
Interested volunteers should contact Diane Sylvester at (225) 247-3370.
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