[Teresa Ford]

Some of our Yorkies are therapy dogs they smell when a patient is sick, sad, over medicated and even dying. The probably know exactly what they had for breakfast, how long ago they voided their bladder, if they are hot or cold and much, much more.

We were visiting patients who were in Hospice. Some patients were sitting in wheel chairs on lounging on the sofa and chairs in the sun room chatting. We made a stop so people could pat Abba and tell us their stories about their dogs. Everyone was smiling, by the time When we took our visiting list and started to do our room visits. We visited a chatty lady and a charming fellow who played the harmonica for us. I thought our visits were done. But, Abba went the wrong way, I was about to call him back when he went into a room.

I followed him into a room that was not on our visiting list. I ask the man in the bed if he wanted a doggy visit and he nodded. He weakly patted the bed with a shaking hand. I put down a towel and lifted Abba up onto the bed. He gently snuggled the old gentleman’s hand. I glanced at the chart ,his name was Robert. He stoked Abba’s silky fur with closed eyes and seemed to drift off sleep with a sigh. A tear slid down his cheek and I dabbed it with a tissue I sat there quietly for about 20 minuets. I could visibly see his arthritic body relax. After a little bit Abba lifted his head and slid out from under Bob's limp hand. He walked softly to the old mans cheek and gave him a delicate good bye kiss. I realized the man had stopped breathing. I scooped Abba up, closed the door, and went down the hall the nurses station. It was a gentle loving good bye for Robert. No more dialysis, chemo therapy or pain, just peace.

How did Abba know ? His nose told his heart.