Puppy Love

By Betsy Lee

Traditionally the life of a pet influences only its household, bringing happiness to only a few. A weekly ritual allows this joy to be expanded, times three.

"The puppy's here!" Leslie Barrientos said when she spotted Nikki through the door of the Ronald McDonald House. Leslie, 4, had been pedaling her tricycle aimlessly around the courtyard, listening to her grandmother discuss her little brother's heart condition.

"He flew in on a helicopter," Leslie said of her brother.

The little girl noticed Nikki's piercing blue eyes through the tinted windows of the house and leapt off the bike. Her excitement was momentarily quelled when Nikki's 72-pound frame came through the door.

"She's so big," Leslie said, while picking at the leg of her pink, Dora the Explorer pajamas.

"She's full of hair," Nikki's owner said. "She's got a full head of hair, just like you."

Leslie's right hand raised absently to her dark curls.

At her owner's direction, Nikki sat down next to the girl. Leslie extended one hand tentatively, eventually losing her fingers in the mass of red and white fur. For 20 minutes, Nikki was let off her leash to explore the foliage around the courtyard. All the while, Leslie watched her intently.

When Leslie's grandmother, a native of Colombia, stood up from her bench, Leslie knew it was time to leave. Her grandmother nodded in the direction of the dog's owner, mouthing a silent gracias before turning to go.

Nikki, panting by the door, watched the pair proceed across the patio. She glanced up as Leslie approached, looking her straight in the eye.

"Goodbye, doggie," Leslie said, offering a slight wave.

* * *

Five years ago, Don Stratton made a vow and now he devotes every Tuesday to fulfilling it. His promise leads him on a daylong journey to three places in St. Petersburg, starting at the Ronald McDonald House. His partner is Nikki, a 6-year-old Siberian Husky. She, too, is part of his commitment.

When Stratton's mother-in-law entered a nursing home in 1999, he saw how the residents responded to the house dog. Residents lit up when they saw the animal and Stratton pledged that if he ever owned another dog, he would try to brighten people's lives with his pet.

"Then God called my bluff and sent me Nikki," he said.

Stratton, an avid reader of the classifieds, found an advertisement for a year-old female Husky and jumped at the chance. He always wanted another dog and says it was the best $100 he has ever spent. Stratton enrolled Nikki in a pet therapy program and she has been a regular visitor at the Ronald McDonald House and the Westminster Shores Retirement Community ever since. Stratton recently added the Verandah Assisted Living Facility to their weekly tour.

"I think this is her favorite spot," Stratton said of the Ronald McDonald House. "She can really run around a bit."

"Some of the kids have gotten pretty attached to Nikki," he said.

* * *

After Leslie and her grandmother left, it was time to go. Stratton waited as Nikki jumped into the back seat of his red Chevy Blazer and the two drove south to the Verandah Assisted Living Facility. Upon arrival, Nikki strutted toward the front door, pulling slightly on her dark green leash. In her haste to enter the building, she walked past a resident pushing her walker down the front path.

"Hi, Nikki. Hi, Nikki. HI, HONEY," the woman called, her voice rising in intensity. "Fine. If you are going to be snippy, I don't want to pet you anyway."

More than 20 residents were gathered in the living room. They did not notice Nikki when she entered the building. Their eyes were glued to the television. Verandah activities coordinator Linda Allen greeted Stratton and Nikki and led the dog over to Bob Castali.

Castali had been in the facility for six months recovering from a stroke before he met Nikki. According to Allen, he was largely unable to move and had not spoken since he moved into the home. The first time Nikki entered his room, Castali peered at Nikki from his bed and said in a clear voice, "Hey there, fella."

He uses this same greeting almost every time he sees Nikki. A broad grin spread across his face when he saw the dog. Leaning over in his wheelchair, he stretched to pet her mostly red face. In response she lightly licked his fingers.

"Hi, hi, buddy," he whispered to her.

Castali's interaction with Nikki drew the attention of others. Eyes quickly shifted to the animal and the previously listless crowd became animated. Nikki greeted all of the residents individually and then performed a "pretty bow" at the center of the room. Residents broke into applause. Stratton fed Nikki a cookie from his red fanny pack.

"Nikki does such wonderful things for our residents," Allen said. "She gives them a chance to connect with each other. They all start talking about her and the pets they used to have."

The residents fed Nikki many more cookies as she made her rounds. With Allen as a guide, Stratton and Nikki made their way through most of the rooms in the facility. Residents in every room welcomed Nikki with a smile, even if they were awakened from a nap.

After leaving the Verandah, Nikki and Stratton took a brief lunch break at home before jumping back into the car. Westminster Shores is their final stop of the day. Nikki has been visiting there since she enrolled in the Pinellas County Project P.U.P.—Pets Uplifting People. The program has 400 pets enrolled, visiting more than 250 health-care facilities.

"When there is a dog in a home it helps residents socialize," said Debra Everington, who has been working in pet therapy for 12 years. "They also get to touch something warm and soft. The tactile feeling is very important."

At Westminster, it became evident that touching a pet can light up an individual's day. Helen Higgins, a resident of the home for 19 years, looks forward to Nikki's weekly visits.

"Oh, sweet baby. Oh, sweet girl," Higgins said to Nikki, softly cupping the dog's face.

The sensation of Nikki's coat between her fingers delighted Higgins, who lost her vision to glaucoma. While the dog was in her room, Higgins could not contain her giggles. Her shaking hands remained extended, even when the dog was out of reach. When Stratton instructed the dog to perform her "pretty bow" for Higgins, she clapped, charmed, even though she couldn't see Nikki leaning forward on her front paws.

"Oh," said Debra Duff, activities coordinator, pointing to her heart. "It just gets you right here."

When Nikki finished greeting the residents in their rooms, Stratton rode across the street on a facility-owned tram. Duff walked Nikki to meet him.

"It's about now that my knees start getting a little sore," Stratton said.

Stratton, a modest man, who declined to reveal his true age, said only that he is in his late 70s and that he graduated from high school in the early 1940s.

Across the street from the assisted living facility, Stratton and Nikki entered a cafeteria and headed to the back where a group of residents were playing bingo. Irene Murphy, activities director for the home, announced Nikki's arrival.

"Look who's here, everyone," Murphy said.

Murphy, who has known Nikki for five years, believes Nikki does a lot of good for the residents.

"It empowers them to remember their good times instead of dwell on their aches and pains," Murphy said. "They get to experience the unconditional love that only animals can bring. It's a wonderful thing. The dog just brings out the love in everyone."

Nikki's normally perky tail was sagging as she left the game room. Stratton led her to the car and they drove home. Panting, Nikki immediately dropped on Stratton's white tile floor.

"She definitely needs a rest," Stratton said

While Nikki took her break, Stratton flipped through a scrapbook documenting Nikki's time spent at the Ronald McDonald House and Westminster Shores. It is filled with smiling people and moments Stratton finds irreplaceable. Every time he thinks about ending his weekly rounds, Stratton has found himself reeled back in by someone telling him how much they love Nikki.

"See," he says, gesturing to a photograph of a child embracing the dog. "You see why I can't quit this?"

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