7 August

Me And The Farmer. Finally.

by Jon Katz
Me And The Farmer
Me And The Farmer

For two years now, two summer seasons, I have stopped to buy corn and flowers and to ask Steve, whose farm the stand sits on and who sells his corn for $5 a dozen, to let me photograph him. Steve has been as determined not to be photographed as I was to photograph him. Sometimes he said he was unshaven, sometimes too busy, often he just shook his head at my foolishness. Steve sells corn and Gladiolas and he wraps the flowers carefully in newspapers. His stand is well known in my county, he has a good spot on a busy road, his corn is much favored.

I told Steve that I would stop bothering him if he just came out of the booth for a minute and let me photograph him for a few minutes inside and out. He astonished me today by saying, “well okay,” and I think he just wanted to get rid of me. His face was worth a thousand photos to me, there is a lot of life and character in it. All day, he sits in his booth, under his tattered straw hat, reading the paper, staring out at the road. He is a monument and record to another life, his farm is right across the road from the stand.

It was important to me to get a record of that face, you never see a face like it in a city and suburb, it is part sun, hard work, witness to a lot of life. I have a photo album of Steve – for me, this is all a prize – going up on Facebook.

(Tomorrow is my birthday, I am heading off in the morning to stop in Bellows Falls, Vt. to get my Jewish Pirate’s tattoo and then have a day at a nice inn with Maria. I’ll post in the morning but I wanted to let you know I am heading out for one day and one night. I am tired in the head, I do need it, I feel it.)

7 August

What The Therapy Dog Must Be

by Jon Katz
What The Therapy Dog Must Be
What The Therapy Dog Must Be

The therapy dog must be of strong temperament, at all times.

He must connect with the patients in some way, physically, through eye contact.

He must be grounded, steady in the face of shouts, noises, cries, wheelchairs and walkers.

He must resist the food that is everywhere – on hands, clothes, on the floor, in chairs, on tables.

He must attend to the caretakers as well as the patients.

He must have endurance, the ability to stay focused on one person, one task for long

periods of time, not natural to most dogs.

He must not make mistakes of any kind, he must never cause harm or fright or disappointment.

He must be aware of his handler at all times, be responsive to the slightest commands,

often given with whispers and hand signals.

He must have a nearly bottomless reservoir of affection and focus, as he will be rubbed, handled,

hugged, talked to endlessly and without respite.

He must tolerate being hugged, squeezed, pulled in the most intense of ways.

He must learn what his work is over time, it is people in need of him, people giving him unfocused attention.

That is the work for which he must be endlessly and clearly reinforced.

The therapy dog is a particular kind of dog.

7 August

Therapy Journal: Waking Up Richard

by Jon Katz
Waking Up Richard
Waking Up Richard

The staff at the home are considerate and respectful of the patients. Richard was napping on the couch, and there was a long discussion about whether or not to wake him, but everyone knew he loved dogs, and he woke up with a big smile. He told Red he was a good dog, a beautiful dog, a sweet dog. He thanked him for coming, asked if he would visit him again. Red’s visits spark memories, stories, laughter and smiles.

7 August

Therapy Journal: The Smile Dog

by Jon Katz
The Smile
The Smile

I call it The Smile. It is the point, the purpose, the connection. There is this point with nursing home patients, with the elderly, with dementia patients, when they see the dog, connect with their own memories, and their faces broaden into the most wonderful smiles. What a gift to bring those smiles to people who need to smile, and to see how those smiles bring the people out of themselves, back into their memories, back into their own lives, their dogs, their need to touch something and their great joy at having a dog like Red come to them, look at them, focus on them.

I told Red he was a smile dog, he made a beeline for this women, in a physical therapy group, they locked eyes, and her face lit up with memories, feelings of love and life. The Smile is what I always look for, when I always feel the work is purposeful. Smiles are healthy, smiles are the point.

7 August

Therapy Journal: At The Veteran’s Home

by Jon Katz

Therapy dog

Red and I went to the Vermont Veteran’s Home in Bennington this morning, he already has admirers, friends and girlfriends all over the facility, we returned to the dementia unit and also to the regular patient care wings, people were so happy to see him, it is always profoundly affecting to see the smiles that greet Red and follow him wherever we go.

Red was more comfortable today, I am training him to approach the patients head-on, two issues that occur – everyone wants to giveĀ  him treats and people like to take his leash and direct him. I discourage that. I have mixed feelings about food during this work, you don’t really want the dog to think of the food more than the patients, which can easily happen. It is also important that I always be the one handling him, for his training and also for safety.

The staff at the home is enthusiastic and cheerful, it was quiet in the home today. Red was mildly spooked by some electronic machines going off and by some long therapy balloons that fell off of a cabinet. He will get used to them over time. It is important for me to move slowly, everyone in the home wants to see him, touch him, pet him, talk to him. It is wonderful in many ways, but I can see it is draining too, he is so intense. I think his limit is about a half an hour right now, I need to take it slowly, not push him.

But he is a natural, he has taken to it as easily as Izzy did, in some ways he is even more connected. He looks patients in the eye, holds their gaze, seems to stay with them as the patients – especially the dementia patients – sometimes need time to focus on him.

We visited a vet above in the photo, he is 92 years old. He petted Red for the longest time, we all quieted and let them speak to each other in their own way. This is challenging and gratifying work, the staff at the home is amazingly diligent and responsive. Red is getting very easy there, me too. I am grateful for him.

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