Authors: David Frei
The dog's nature is to trust everyone, so the lesson falls to you, the dog's handler: protect your dog at all times. As the handler and as the dog's advocate, it is your responsibility to know who you are visiting and always be prepared.
I know that the people we visit appreciate our work, but they don't get the chance to do much other than throw us a quick thank-you as we walk out the door. And that's fine; we know that they do appreciate us, and we understand the circumstances. But to run into some thank-yous later can be pretty special.
We were at Saks Fifth Avenue for the Angel On A Leash charity event with Uno in 2009 when two ladies approached me. They looked like well-to-do Saks customers, like all of those who were there, having their pictures taken with Uno.
“Hi, David. I know that you probably don't remember us,” one of them began, introducing herself, “but you and your dog Belle visited our mother at Sloan-Kettering last fall, and we were there in the room with her. We met you then. We saw that you were going to be here, and we wanted to come by and thank you again.”
That was nice. “I'll let Belle know that you were here. That's great that you would come to find me. Please give my best to your mother.”
“She sends her best, too,” the daughter said, “and asked us to tell you to give Belle a hug for her.”
“Well, I can certainly make that happen. Tell her that Belle sends her love!”
Occasionally I will see someone on his or her repeat visit to Sloan-Kettering. One night, I walked into a room with Grace, and the patient jumped out of bed with excitement.
“Oh, I am so excited that you are here,” she said. “I have saved this picture of Angel ever since my last time here, a few months ago, when she came to see me.”
With that, she showed me a picture of Angel and her in her hospital bed from that visit.
“I want to get a picture of Grace and me to add to the collection,” she said, handing her cell phone to her visiting friend to take a photo. “Here, put Grace right here,” she said, patting the bed.
“That's great,” I said. “We're always good for a picture for you.”
Another evening, we were sitting at Finnegan's with Teigh and Belle, and we struck up a conversation with a couple sitting at the table next to us. They asked about the dogs, and eventually the conversation came around to the work that they did at Sloan-Kettering and Ronald McDonald House.
The ladies at the table on the other side of us, who couldn't help but hear our conversation, were getting up to leave and stopped to pet Teigh and Belle.
“Actually, I know all about you and Belle,” said one of them.
“How is that?” I asked.
“Personal experience. I was a patient, and you came to visit me,” she said. “It was such a great visit; you took my mind off my pain and my feeling sorry for myself. I thought about you often and always wished I had thanked you more.”
That made me smile. “Just seeing you sitting here and the fact that you are out and about is about as huge a thank-you as you can give me.”
PHOTO: GARRY GROSS
Teigh and Belle.
PHOTO: MARY BLOOM
The “you really do start to look like your dog as you get older” picture.
PHOTO: CHUCK TATHAM
Belle, a.k.a. Ch. Hope's Know-Belle Award JH.
ARTIST: MALCOLM FARLEY
Belle and a friend at Ronald McDonald House.
PHOTO: LISA CROFT-ELLIOTT
David and Cherilyn at an Angel benefit.
PHOTO: CARL LINDEMAIER
Cherilyn, Belle, and Teigh.
PHOTO: DAVID FREI
Belle and Teigh romp at Cannon Beach, Oregon.
PHOTO: DAVID FREI
The “Bad Boys of Ronald McDonald House” on a Saturday night.
PHOTO COURTESY OF KAREN PELLETIER
Karen Pelletier was our first patient at Memorial Sloan-Kettering Cancer Center.