The elevator doors parted slowly. Shelley and her silver and white Siberian Husky, Lee, stepped out onto the third floor of the nursing home and approached the nurses station down the hall.
"Can I help you," the nurse inquired from behind the tall counter. The white-clad professional never took her eyes off the clipboard in front of her which she was studying intently. Before Shelley could respond, Lee raised herself on her hind legs and placed her snowy white paws on top of the counter so she could see who was connected to the voice on the other side.
"Lee, off," Shelley corrected and ordered her dog to sit-stay beside her. The clipboard forgotten, the curious nurse abandoned her work to investigate the visitor with the furry feet on the other side.
"Oh my goodness, what do we have here," the nurse inquired wandering around to the other side of her station. Shelley identified herself and her pet as new members of the therapy dog team. "Tonight's our first visit," Shelley confessed. "That's right, the activities director told us you'd be here," the nurse replied. She stooped down to tousle the Siberian's ruff, jingling the bright red therapy dog attached to Lee's collar and offered, "Let me show you around."
The pair strolled down the long hallway and chatted. They encountered several wheelchair-bound residents along the way who Mrs. Anderson introduced to Shelley and her Siberian Husky.
Mrs. Anderson pointed out the rooms of the residents that she knew would enjoy a visit and explained if there was any question as to whether or not a resident wanted company, Shelley should just ask. "And don't worry," she reassured Shelley. "If a resident does not like dogs or does not want to be disturbed, he or she will tell you. Mrs. Anderson then said goodbye, her rubber-soled shoes making soft little squeaking noises against the tile floor as she walked away.
Shelley and Lee slowly walked down the long hallway. Just as Mrs. Anderson predicted some people immediately invited Shelley and Lee inside for a chat, some did not and some actually loudly declared they did not like dogs and that Shelley and her dog were to get out!
But the majority of senior citizens welcomed the opportunity for a close encounter of the canine kind. During these meetings Shelley and Lee witnessed for themselves the supernatural rejuvenating powers of the human animal bond.
True, each would ask what kind of dog was Lee, pet her, and pose questions about the Siberian Husky breed, but invariably the conversation would turn to the various canine companions each resident had known. These recollections elicited the most joy for all.
The aged eyes crinkled up at the corners, the lined mouth would smile and giggle as each person they visited happily recalled many anecdotes involving their cherished, mischievous companions from the past.
Shelley and Lee would sit spellbound as a lady with white hair named Pat talked about her poodles, and all the tricks that they could perform. Another lady named Charlotte had a mixed breed terrier named Mike who travelled everywhere with her for all of his 16 years. Tom, the man across the hall, used to have a Bernese Mountain Dog when he lived in Europe that delighted in pulling his children about in a cart. But the resident in Room 333 was the one that Shelley and Lee would always look forward to visiting most.
Her name was Mrs. Jackson and she grew up on a farm in Georgia. Shelley was afraid to enter her room for she had heard that Mrs. Jackson was completely bedridden and was not well. She cautiously peered into the darkness of the room when she heard a soft voice that coaxed them to come in. One muted light by Mrs. Jacksons bed provided the only illumination as Shelley and Lee slowly made their way to her bedside.
Mrs. Jackson's ancient body was lost in the folds of the blanket. One withered arm was all that was visible flung over her ghostly sunken face. But bright brown eyes twinkled up at Shelley through the shadows and emanated a youthful energy and inner strength from within.
"I thought I saw that you had a dog with you. Mrs. Jackson shifted her head slightly and smiled down at Lee. " Come here, my child," she coaxed to the Siberian. " I would reach out to pet you but I cannot sit up. Please come here where I can see you better."
Lee's luminous brown eyes responded to the invitation. Without any prompting from Shelley, Lee sidled closer and raised herself up. The Siberian slid her head between the metal bars on the side of her bed and rested her chin on Mrs. Jackson lap. "There, there now," Mrs. Jackson crooned, lightly touching Lee's head with her blue-veined wrinkled hands. Lee's thick tail quietly thumped against the mattress in Siberian contentment.
Thus began the friendships that would last a long time. It was hard to say who enjoyed the visits the most, Shelly, Lee or the people they visited. Once they became familiar with the inhabitants Lee memorized their nursing home route, straining at her leash as she trotted from room to room down the stark halls. Lee led Shelley from Charlotte's room to Tom's and from Tom's to Pat's. But somehow they always wound up at Mrs. Jackson's.
There was something extraordinary about this wizened southern lady. She possessed a kindness, a gentleness and calmness that proved to be as soothing to Shelley as it was to Lee. Mrs. Jackson liked to talk about life on the farm in rural Georgia and all the hunting dogs she had known. They were her children, she said, as were all her animals and her pets all shared her home.
Shelley and Mrs. Jackson talked about their lives, their dogs and their hobbies. And after Shelley explained how dog shows worked, they even talked about them. At each Wednesday visit, she would inquire if they had been to a dog show the weekend before. Shelley would recount the details of that show weekend and give Mrs. Jackson whatever ribbon, if any, they had won. The following Wednesday always found that ribbon proudly displayed on the wall for all to see.
Shelley would confide things to Mrs. Jackson that she could not really talk about with anyone else. After one weekend show she presented Nrs. Jackson with their white satin ribbon. "I wish it was purple," Shelley muttered under her breath. Mrs. Jackson only smiled.
After a long pause, she stopped petting Lee and looked up at her disconsolate companion. "Shelley, my child," Mrs. Jackson advised kindly, "you must remember one thing. Life does not work that way. You cannot win just because you want to. When it is Lee's turn to win and the time is right she will win. Don't be in such a hurry to get to that point that you cannot enjoy all the life you have before you along the way."
Sufficiently embarrassed, Shelley nodded her head and looked down at the floor. Mrs. Jackson closed her eyes and sighed. "And when the time is right you must move on to other things. Even if you're not quite ready to. So don't worry child," Mrs. Jackson consoled Shelley. "It will be her time soon."
True to her prophecy, a bit of purple satin soon adorned Mrs. Jackson's wall at the nursing home, and then another. It was the height of the show season and Shelley found that she was not able to make it to the nursing home every Wednesday. When she had time to look at a calendar, she realized that she had missed the last two Wednesdays in a row. She vowed to herself to call on her friends soon.
The following weekend, on the way home from a show, Shelley decided to stop in at the nursing home. She and Lee rode the elevator to the third floor. Shelley was humming a tune and took a right past the empty nurses station towards Room 333. The clatter of the attendants sliding the dinner trays on the cart in the middle of the hall drowned out her cheery hello to everyone as she sped by.
Leading the way, Lee suddenly slowed to a walk and hesitantly stepped the last few feet over the threshold into Mrs. Jackson's room. The Siberian Husky looked up at her owner in uncertainty. They entered no further as Shelley looked around the room in horrified disbelief and felt the blood slowly drain from her face.
The bed was empty and neatly made. The ribbons were gone from the wall and the quiet within was deafening. Room 333 contained no familiar items and they heard no gentle greeting welcome them as they visited what once was their own special place.
Shelley continued to stand in a daze. She barely heard the beginnings of the storm outside as the ponderous drops slapped a incessant obnoxious rhythm against the glass by where she stood. She didn't know how long she had been standing there before she was startled by a sound behind her.
"I'm sorry I didn't see you when you came in," the voice said. Shelley was unable to respond as she turned and recognized Mrs. Anderson. "Mrs. Jackson passed on last week," the nurse explained. "It was very peaceful. The doctor and I were with her and she didn't seem at all upset. She kept saying that it was her time and that she was ready. We will miss her very much. She was a very special lady."
Shelley nodded dumbly in agreement and made an effort to smile. The nurse patted her shoulder and made her goodbyes. Shelley stepped across the empty room and stared down at the empty bed. She tried hard not to cry. Lee curled up at her feet and together they reminisced about all the Wednesdays they had enjoyed there against the grey background of the subdued drizzle outside..
"Come on Lee," Shelley said to her Siberian after a great while. They started to leave but were blocked at the door by a frail bright-eyed grey-haired man in a wheelchair with ruddy apple cheeks.
"Why hello", the little man in the wheelchair chirped. "Did you and your pup come to visit with me?," he asked merrily. Before she could make her apologies, Lee tugged at her leash to go over to the man's wheelchair and placed her chin against his knee. The man chuckled and ruffled the fur behind Lee's ears delighted by her waggy-tailed attentions.
Shelley glanced one more time at the bed. She smiled as she remembered all that Mrs. Jackson had taught her. She sat in the chair by the bed at the man's request - the chair that she had sat in most Wednesdays. She listened to the man chatter happily about his grand old black and white dog Bob, and promised to come back and visit soon. After all, Shelley realized, Mrs. Jackson would have wanted it that way.