His Heart Scribe Inspirations Devotional Magazine January 2014 January Issue 2014 | Page 15

ver since a therapy dog visited
me in the hospital during my
first cycle of chemotherapy in
May 2011, I became fixated
on the idea of having a dog of
my own one day.
...

than out. And in the time I was able to
spend at home, I had to live in a germ-free
bubble to protect my fragile immune system. As a substitute for a real dog, my
mom found “Sleepy,” my childhood stuffed
dog in the attic. As embarrassing as it was
for me to be toting a stuffed animal at age
22, Sleepy was the next best thing to a real
puppy. He made me feel like a kid again,
safe and innocent to the cruelties of the
world.

hen you are talking to a dog

about cancer, there are no judgments or
taboos. The therapy dog, a small energetic
King Charles spaniel, jumped around on
my hospital bed playfully tugging at the
blanket on my lap. For the first time since I
had fallen ill, I didn’t feel like I was being
treated as if I were made of porcelain. The
therapy dog made me feel like a human
first, and a cancer patient second.
...

...

ix months after my bone marrow

transplant, I finally got the green light from
my doctors to get a real puppy. I promised
my parents that I would take numerous
precautions to protect my health. The dog
would wear disposable booties on walks, to
keep his paws as germ-free as possible. I

uring the first year of my cancer

treatment, adopting a dog was out of the
question. I spent more time in the hospital

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