Four-Legged Love

I left my husband’s bedside just long enough to run to the hospital lobby vending machine for a soda. There, about to step into the elevator, was a woman and a therapy dog, a bright red bandana looped around his neck. Not only a therapy dog, but a golden retriever, just like ours back home.

“Wait!” I called after them.

The handler hung back and let the elevator doors close without them.

“What a beautiful dog. May I pat him?”

“Absolutely. His name is Cooper.”

I gave Cooper a big hug. A huge smile spread across my face—for the first time, it seemed, since my husband had become ill. I wished that Mike could see Cooper too. He was surely missing our golden retriever back home. He needed something positive these days. “Could you possibly make a visit to someone on the sixth floor?”

When we arrived at Mike’s room, Cooper and his handler eased up to the bedside. The dog pushed his soft, golden head into Mike’s open arms, and Mike’s broad smile matched my own.

We’d both been through a lot, but what I saw gave me hope and comfort, more than I’d even known I needed.