The Why.

Presence not expectation in social therapy with Chance.

The Why

When I first saw a photo of Chance, our biped rescue dog, one of many dogs with disabilities we have made family over the years, I knew instantly he was meant to be ours. The rescue organization contacted after his abandonment in a parking lot has agreed to help. His life with a biped poodle for six weeks brought Chance a new life skill that not only facilitates an exuberance for life, in discovery and being part of his own pack, but also a magical quality endearing him to both young and old. He learned to walk masterfully on two legs. Walking became leaping, hopping with purpose or joy.

An early visit after he was certified with The Alliance of Therapy Dogs, was Lokrantz Special Education Center, a California school dedicated to serving a population of handicapable students through many diverse supportive techniques and programs. Most of the children we visited were in varying types of wheeled chairs, where their adept teachers moved them to new perspectives and in our case, a better opportunity to feel Chance’s fur or catch a glimpse of him if they were able to. Most did not speak and looking up was a challenge, however, the magic of touch, small fingers on Chance’s downy, red-like coat, made words seem burdensome. Unnecessary. Chance walked in front of them, sat in his stroller to be stroked briefly, and occasionally uttered what I hoped was happiness.

In our first classroom, where students of varying levels of attention on Chance from fear of dogs to happy engagement, to visibly no awareness of his presence, we settled in next to a young boy, named Alen. His teacher was on his left, while Chance, on my lap, sat close by. It was not known the full nature of Alen’s capabilities, but he had a presence. There was a knowing. I placed his hand on Chance’s head. No expectations, just opportunity. When Alen started to laugh, my heart fluttered, and tears filled my eyes. I was not alone as the glisten in his teacher’s eyes told me everything I needed to know. This was a first for him. A few moments later, he lifted his own hand and placed it on that same precious head: his choice, his power, his joy. We may take responsiveness for granted, but on this day, it was Alen’s shared gift.

In the second classroom, two boys were laid out on small beanbag chairs to better serve their medical needs at that time, and at one point, Chance walked over to a boy named Sultan, and laid down next to his feet, leaning on the bean bag. I was able to take Sultan’s warm little hand, not totally sure of his awareness of the situation, but encouraged to do so by his teacher, and gently placed it on Chance’s soft, wavy back fur. A big smile washed over his face. It was the very purpose, just as with Alen moments earlier; the why of this work, and my heart, when I looked at both he and my darling little pup, whose eyes covey multitudes of emotions with a single stare, about leaped out of my body.

More recently our visits have included high school students. Most of the students do not show overt reactions to Chance, though his teacher has told me he positively changes the energy in the classroom. We have persevered without expectation. I hold Chance in my arms, bringing the young man's wrapped hands near so he can physically feel Chance's energy and body. A girl wearing lip gloss and a pink heart sweatshirt for Valentine's Day smiles at a pup who catches her eye.

Alignment sneaks up sometimes, you nod and realize you imagined a thing and then it happened, wished for an outcome and began to live through it. Other times, it takes your breath; quite literally as it did that first momentous visiting day. As I wheeled Chance in his stroller, back to our car, after our time spent with these lovable children, I had to calm my insides and yearn for a big breath. I didn’t realize I was holding it in, but Chance proved to me, the big exhale was always going to come

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