After having an emergency double hernia surgery, while sleeping in bed and slightly disoriented and confused, my grandpa patted on the hospital bed and gruffly called for his dog, Buddy, to come and lay next to him. He then tried reaching off the side of the hospital bed to give Buddy a pat on the head. He soon remembered where he was at, and that unfortunately Buddy was not at the hospital with him.
My grandpa's dogs have always been his best friends and truly his buddies. I have especially loved seeing his eyes perk up and the grin he gets on his face when he is remembering all of the canine companions he has had throughout his life. I suppose you could say my love for dogs came directly from his genes.
This heart breaking moment at the hospital reminded me of a health report I heard not long ago on NPR: "Pet Therapy: How Animals And Humans Heal Each Other." If you asked my grandpa what his secret to a long life has been he would tell you it's a simple recipe of beer and garlic. However, for a man that avoids doctors at all costs, I would not be surprised if his love for dogs has aided in keeping him in relatively good health throughout his life.
My grandpa has a long path down the road to recovery. And, in our search for rehabilitation facilities we decided to go with the place that has two live-in friends: a golden retriever and a cat. The best part is that I can even bring Grandpa's best friend Buddy by for a visit. Grandpa will be getting the medical attention that he needs from the doctors, and the love and care that only a trusty canine companion can give—maybe even some wet slobbery kisses.
Thanks, Sadie. I have always said that I get my "love-of-animal's-gene" from my Dad, too! Not only did we grow up with dogs but, we had cats, rabbits, guinea pigs, gerbils, birds, etc.... If we brought it home, your grandpa let us keep it. I have lots of favorite memories...but, I'll share one. Every night grandpa would pack his lunch in his old, smelly aluminum lunch box and he always made certain to pack a special treat for his two dogs: Irving (a basset) and Jackson (a blood hound). Like clock work, those two dogs knew when he was coming home; they sat at the bottom of the driveway and waited anxiously at the gate. When he'd+ arrive, he'd first greet them, calling them his best buds, my doggies, my buddies. He'd then sit on the back stoop and ask if he had anything for them - he'd ask them...he'd look around...they'd nudge his lunch box...he'd pretend not to notice...of course this went on for 5 minutes or so until finally, he'd open the lunch box and take out the treat then, tearing off tiny pieces reward them. He'd then take out his harmonica and play while Jackson bayed and Irving hummed. This was the same routine for as long as I can remember - grandpa never missed a day!
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