Maximilian was a sweet, eager-to-please, gentle giant of a Rottweiler. When he was 4 years old, he was certified as a Pet Partner for Delta Society. Immediately, he began visiting John C Lincoln Hospital. Visits to Paradise Valley Life Care Center were added. For the next 4 years until his death from cancer, he continued visiting the hospital and nursing home and spreading love to all he met. To Max, a stranger in these places was just someone he had not yet had the chance to get to know. He managed to touch many lives during his years of service. On a few occasions he met individuals who were terrified of all dogs. After getting to know Max for a short time, they came to love him and overcame their fear. He also acted as an ambassador for the breed, showing countless people that Rotties are not a bad breed by nature. On his first hospital visit, the woman who took us around admitted later to a deathly fear of only one breed—Rottweilers. It took Max 5 minutes to win her over completely. The number of people who have been touched by this gentle dog has become even more apparent since his death.

In his “off hours”, Max shared his home with Dawn Vasquez, Allie Vasquez, and Tag-Along (his Wheaten Terrier mix brother).

Scarlet, I love you very much, and I miss you so much. I am lucky you shared so many years of your life with me.

January 28, 1991 – September 16, 2005
Loyal Companion –Faithful Friend – Devoted Partner

Children in the classroom, patients in the hospital, elderly residents in the assisted living center, clients in an office, students in a workshop…..Shana was faithful in providing unconditional acceptance and intuitive attention to them all regardless of age, malady, their ability to interact with her or their level of interest in her. Shana’s outstanding qualities included intuitiveness, tolerance and joy in her work. Her career as a therapy dog spanned 10 years, touching thousands of lives.
Shana taught us many things…..she lived in the present moment and, to her final breath, she offered herself to it fully without reserve. She communicated volumes without saying a word, teaching a capacity for openness that is perceptive and life-giving. In giving of herself so unselfishly, she exemplified what it means to be truly authentic.
I didn’t realize until she was gone the immense role that Shana played in what I’ve become. Her ever-affirming presence is now a gaping hole. I was fortunate to be able to include Shana in my work and this had a tremendous impact on the depth of our relationship. With each day, the familiarity and ease that developed between us evolved into an unspoken harmony.
The depth of our experience with Shana is of immeasurable value and, ultimately, we believe that something of such great value will never be lost. With this hope, the eternal must surely be present in her. "All that we’ve shared is woven in our hearts, each thread is a memory from which we will never part."
Diana & Ken

Pet Partner Murphy and one of her good friends smile together during a visit.

Murphy lived her life full of a drive to work, a devotion to her people, and a desire to meet or perform for everyone else in the world. She earned an AKC Companion Dog Excellent title, appeared on television several times, and even made a commercial. She performed for groups ranging from veterinary students to 4-H participants. A reporter observing one of our public demonstrations dubbed her in print, “Murphy the Wonder Dog.” And she was.
Murphy was an ambassador for training using kind, gentle methods.

As a Pet Partner, Murphy brightened the lives of many. She had a special relationship with one developmentally challenged young man, who as a child was deathly afraid of dogs but in later years always wanted to be near her.
Murphy truly was his companion and best buddy.

When it became clear, at 12 years of age, that she had inoperable cancer, she still maintained the intensity and drive that was her trademark. Even when she could barely eat or breathe, and it was difficult for her to walk, she still wanted to work. When we finally said goodbye, it comforted us to think that somewhere she was once again playing happily, her body young and whole, smiling her gap-toothed, Lauren Hutton smile, waiting for us to throw the Frisbee one more time.

Springer was my mobility assistance dog for 11 years, and my main companion for 12 and a half years. As a service dog, he went everywhere with me: to stores, medical offices, restaurants, etc - we traveled all over the United States, took a road trip to Alaska, and even rode on a few airplanes.
Everyday Springer accompanied me to my classroom where I teach.. He attended faculty meetings (yawning when he was bored), had his own school ID card, and was picture with me in the school yearbook. I never knew anyone who was as excited to go to school everyday - I lightened up the rule about not petting a service dog, and Springer soon took on a dual role as a therapy dog as well as a serice dog. When he was not on duty, he slept on his pillow by my desk or sometimes he walked up and down the rows of desks, deciding to sit down by some particular student, who beamed at being chosen. The students would let their arms drop over the sides of their desks in order to touch his hair as he walked by. Springer helped the kids learn how to care for and treat a dog with kindness.
Students and teachers alike would drop by my classroom for what one teacher referred to as his "dog fix," and several staff kept dog cookies in their desk drawers. Because of Springer, I met and befriended a number of kids I would not have know otherwise - tough gang-types who would otherwise not speak to me, would stop in the hall to kneel down and pet or talk to Springer.
Springer and I spent every summer in the mountains and he loved those lakes and rivers. He died in those mountains, in the cabin that I've been building. He sat up and looked at me one last time before he slumped back and passed away. He is buried under a limber pine, surrounded by aspens. The rocks piled over his grave were placed there by many of those whose lives he touched. Yes, Springer touched so many lives and many people feel his loss. For me, it has been the greatest loss. But I am thankful, so grateful that he shared those 12 and a half year with me.
- Peggy Serry

Woody was a Pet Partner for five and a half years. He and I visited United Cerebral Palsy in New York City each week. Woody loved all the people there and they loved him. One year, they asked me if Woody could be a "Doctor" for Halloween. Woody gladly obliged. When I asked why, they told me, "because he heals us - he makes us feel better." Woody celebrated many birthdays and holidays with his friends at UCP.

After September 11th, Woody also worked at the Family Assistance Center; twice a week for five months, visiting family members, staff and workers from Ground Zero. He accompanied family members on the Police boat to visit Ground Zero for their first time.

I will always be grateful for having Woody in my life. He was my best friend and my teacher. He was always by my side to support me and make me feel better. He was always happy, no matter what came his way. He enjoyed life and had a great will to live. He was and shall remain my inspiration. He changed my life and I miss him dearly.

- Lynne Lerner

Pet Partner Chester provides comfort at Mount Sinai.

Chester and Sharon Green were one of the first pet therapy teams to visit at Mount Sinai Hospital. Chester’s easygoing nature and calming demeanor endeared him to staff, patients, and visitors.

Repeatedly, the staff at Mount Sinai was amazed by Chester’s healing powers: with quiet determination, he would know what to do to motivate the patients who were hesitant to walk, talk, or use their limbs. Many patients reported that they owe part of their recovery to the visits from Chester.

In the rehabilitation units, Chester knew just how to maneuver his body so wheelchair bound patients could have the chance to feel his silky ears and jowls.

In the pediatric hematology/oncology unit, Chester was always available to kiss and snuggle a hurting child and ease some of their pain, or gently place his front paws and head on them so they could get some much-needed comfort.

Sadly, Chester was taken away from those who love him in the prime of his life. Despite his illness, he remained dignified to the very end. The loss is great and felt by many.

Goodbye sweet Chester. We love and miss you.

Gander,

Gone in 60 seconds...found! You left whatever home you came from and found a field of football players and coaches that hot August day. Daddy called you over and rubbed your belly. He gave you water and his players shared their chicken patties with you. You began to relax.

After waiting at the SPCA for a week your owner did not claim you. Our Greater Swiss Mountain Dog, Sam, met you and you both got along. So, we brought you home into our lives and into your 'furever' home. Howling at first, you soon found your pack in us. Your gnawed down teeth and crooked jaw told us you were much happier here with Sammy and us. Your loyal spirit would later lead us to therapy training and then to becoming a therapy dog, a dream I had had for six years. Daddy and I were so proud of you that hot August day when you passed your Delta test, but joy flowed from my heart on your first but only therapy dog visit at the library. You loved lying on the blanket, listening to kids read picture books aloud.

Only one hour after we left the library that mountain top experience become a valley low. In the middle of us playing frisbee, your favorite, you collapsed, whimpered and died in my arms. By the time we arrived at the vet's office, it was too late.

Gone in 60 seconds...found in heaven. Your loyal ways and happy waving tail will never be forgotten. We love you and miss you, Gander.

Your loving parents,
Jenn and Brian Oswald

Nathan comforts a patient.

Nathan Hale will always be a part of my heart.  He was my first Pet Partner (1991) and gave me courage to venture into areas of healthcare I hadn't dreamed of.  He was confident &  reassuring to all who met him and touched his velvet head, and were won over by his soft spaniel expression.  

A member of the Pilot Group of Rx: DOG LOVE in Akron, Ohio, he began visiting in 1991 in Onoclogy, Behavioral Health and Rehabilitation units at Akron City Hospital.  Shortly after the program was underway, most of the other units and departments in the three Summa hospitals  opened to us for visits.

Nathan Hale was the first dog that we know of in the US, and probably the planet, to be asked to visit inside an Intensive Care Unit (Summa Health System's Akron City Hospital, 1993)  His intuitive gift touched hundreds of patients, and their critical caregivers.  He set the standard for all to follow.  He was mentor to many many new teams, from our hospital, and other facilities, and his impression and abilities, we feel, are part of the reason our program has been used as the mdoel for 23 other health care faciltiies across the US. 

His children and grand children and great grand children carry on for him as my continuing Pet Partner team mates.  Nate, you were the best.  See you at The Bridge, Big Dog.

I adopted Hoku from Kent Animal Shelter as a two-year old stray shortly after registering with the Seattle Purebred Dog Rescue for a Samoyed. I was struck by his happy-go-lucky attitude and his commanding presence, and promptly named him "Hoku", which means "star" in Hawaiian. He was exceedingly gentle and definitely a child-friendly guy. I remember one time a two-year old girl (total stranger) ran up to him on the street and gave him a huge bear-hug, exclaiming "I love you white doggy", and Hoku loved every minute of it. Although he had a mind of his own when it came to dog obedience, Hoku became certified as a Pet Partner and did a brief stint visiting a senior home in Seattle's Chinatown until his various ailments caused him to stop. Hoku passed away from prostate cancer in 2003, after sharing ten years of his wonderful life with me, and he will be sorely missed. I will remember Hoku best for having a contagious smile--even the most canterkerous stranger couldn't help to smile back where-ever we went.