Editor’s note: I need apologize for any misunderstanding about this post. It was originally written on February 24, 2010. We had included the date at the bottom of the post, but evidently it wasn’t enough. Thank you for all the kind comments. Even today, they provide such great comfort. May everyone have a Faux in their life.
It was 14 years ago on March 17 that a marvelous litter of Australian Shepherds was born in our neighborhood. Six weeks later while walking my cantankerous Border Collie Chauncey, I saw the litter and immediately spotted one out of the dozen that seemed to be the center of attention. All the others wanted to play with her because she was such a happy little soul and such a great sport. I didn’t need another dog, but there was just something about her that was magical, so I asked if I could just take her home for one night. Chauncey was not pleased, but it was for just one night.
The next morning I called our neighbors and asked how much the puppies were. They said “$250, but they would sell her to me for $200.” At that time they might as well have said a thousand, but I decided that my rainy day fund could help me out this one time and paid the full $250. I wasn’t going to treat this pick of the litter with anything but top dollar.
While Chauncey was still not very happy about our new roommate, she adjusted because the puppy hero-worshiped her. I always thought that I trained the puppy, but looking back I realize now that it was Chauncey who taught the puppy how to raise a human.
Eventually after many name tries (Clancy, Mary Posa, etc.), we settled on Faux Marble because her coat looked like fake marble. Over the years, she grew from an adorable puppy to a rather beautiful Aussie. Yet, she retained her Miss Congeniality title with everyone and every dog that she met.
She excelled in her puppy obedience, so much so that she moved up in the ranks to advanced, super-duper obedience. There was talk of her competing in trials, but I decided that she wasn’t meant for that.
Then one day I read a notice in the paper that Baylor Healthcare System’s Animal Assisted Therapy program was testing candidates for its program. It sounded interesting and I thought it would be nice for Faux to have people pat her on the head. After all, what more does a therapy dog do, but visit people in the waiting room? So, we signed up for the test.
While testing for therapy programs differ, the Baylor test under the direction of Linda Marler is right up there with facing the Supreme Court. As we waited in the outer room for our turn, we watched other canine/human partners leave the testing area looking like they had just weathered the Iditarod. What had I gotten us into?
As we were called into the room filled with veteran teams of the therapy program, I hesitated but Faux pulled the leash and headed into the room as if she knew exactly what to do. During the test, they did all types of things to rattle us. I was a bit shell shocked, but Faux never wavered. It was as if she had been studying for this opportunity all of her life. At the end of the test, Linda announced to the veteran therapy program teams that Faux had passed the test with flying colors. I think they let me in because Faux was so outstanding.
That day led to a journey taking us far beyond the waiting rooms. We would work in various areas of Baylor — the Baylor Institute of Rehabilitation, the psych unit, the transplant floor, and Our Children’s House. Faux would do tricks to entertain both patients and staff. She especially loved the staff who always greeted her with special pats and knew just the right spot to scratch.
But it wasn’t all tricks like shake, sit, and down. No, the dogs were expected to work with the patients and therapists. While at home the canines were just regular pooches, but once inside Baylor they became working staff demonstrating patience and showing no apprehension of the equipment, noises, and smells in the facility. They proudly wore their uniforms of blue bandannas, leashes, and collars. You got the impression that these dogs knew they had a talent and an awareness like the rescue dogs in Haiti or the service dogs that aid the blind. They were simply cut out for this type of work and thrived on it.
What amazed me about Faux and the other dogs in the program was how time and time again they would sense a patient who needed a certain type of attention. They tended to gravitate to the patient who had left a pet at home weeks ago and needed some “unconditional medicine” that wasn’t in medical books. Simply by putting her head on the knee of someone, or letting a child pull a little too long on her ear, she just knew how to handle those moments without a word being said.
I would kiddingly say that she was the volunteer and I was simply her escort.
But it wasn’t all work. There was the infamous annual Pink Pooch Parade at Baylor’s Plano facility in October. Each of the poor therapy dogs was humiliated by being dressed in various pink outfits and then paraded through the hospital as part of breast cancer awareness month. It was at this time that Faux thought I was akin to a stage mother of a baby beauty contestant.
One of the lessons that I learned from the program was the phrase, “crossing the rainbow bridge.” I had never heard of it. But every now and then I would get an email from Linda that one of the dogs in the program had died, or “crossed over the rainbow bridge.” It was a painful email that all the program teams dreaded. Not only for the loss of a marvelously giving animal, but also because we knew that one day it would hit our team.
This morning Baylor lost one of its volunteers. Faux crossed the rainbow bridge.
-Originally written on February 24, 2010
Deborah Brown says
What a wonderful story about Faux!! What a beautiful dog she was! Faux lives as long as she is alive in your memory. Thanks for sharing!
Pam Perella says
I’m sorry for your loss Jeanne. What a special dog /friend and beautiful tribute!
Gina Betts says
I am so sorry for your loss. Losing a beloved furry friend is so painful. I am sending a big hug your way!
Susan Carter says
What a GORGEOUS four-legged friend that touched so many lives. Wrapping you in light and love Jeanne. So so hard to lose those that hold such a special place in our hearts. Sending thoughts your way!
Karol Omlor says
I am so sorry. Losing a loved pet is very, very hard. Thinking of you.
LeeAnne Locken says
What a loving tribute to a beyond special fur child! Their souls touch us in way humans never could! Prayers for comfort and peace.
Annette Leslie says
Sounds like Faux was a true gift to those whom he met. When our boy was inpatient for days, weeks and months he received All types of therapy. But DOG therapy was the ONLY therapy he truly loved and the only therapy that put a smile on his face. Just maybe Carson was there to greet Faux, sounds like he will be missed by Many.
Christine Rogers says
Jeanne, what a beautiful tribute and wonderful volunteer and pet. I\\\\’m so sorry for your loss.
Laura Stockdale says
What a special gift you both offered. I\’m so sorry for your loss of (wo)man\’s best friend!
Rosanne Lewis says
What a warm, touching tribute to such a beautiful dog and friend! I\’m so sorry for your loss Jeanne, thinking of you.
Sylvia Bodell says
What a beautiful girl, a beautiful life and heartfelt tribute. She contributed more in 14 years than some people do in a lifetime. She loved and was loved. I’m so sorry for your loss Jeanne.
Melinda Rathke says
Jeanne, I’m sure your heart must be broken. Thank you for sharing this beautiful tribute to Faux. We can only hope that we touch as many lives as Faux did. She was so pretty and regal, inside and out and so lucky to have been loved by you.