Death By Darjeeling

Chapter 12

Click, click, click. Earl Grey took long, easy strides as his toenails hit the blue vinyl runner that ran down the center hallway of the O’Doud Senior Home. Head erect, ears pitched forward, he was spiffily outfitted in his blue nylon vest emblazoned with his therapy dog patch.

“Hello there, Earl.” Suzette, one of the regular night nurses who had worked there a good fifteen years, greeted him with a big smile as he passed by. As an afterthought, Suzette also acknowledged Theodosia. “Hello, ma’am,” she said.

Earl Grey and Theodosia were both officially on duty, but Theodosia had long since gotten used to playing second fiddle. Once they set foot in the door, it was strictly Earl Grey’s show. And everyone, from head nurse to janitor, tended to greet Earl Grey first. It was as though he was the one who’d driven over for a visit and allowed Theodosia to tag along.

That was just fine with Theodosia. In fact, downplaying her role was the whole idea behind therapy dog work. You wanted the dog to approach residents first, in the hallways or recreation room, or even in a resident’s private room.

Let the residents themselves decide their level of interaction.

Sometimes, if a person was lying in bed, sick or infirm, they’d just smile at Earl Grey. Often he’d have a calming influence on them, or he’d be able to cheer them with his quiet presence. It was at times like those that Theodosia thought they might be remembering some lovable dog they’d once enjoyed as a pet. Earl Grey, uncanny canine that he was, seemed to understand just when a resident had gained that certain comfort level with him. When he thought the time was right, he’d rest his muzzle on the edge of their bed and give them a gentle kiss.

One elderly man who was blind and confined to a wheelchair, severely limited in his activities, enjoyed tossing a tennis ball for Earl Grey. Earl Grey would bump and bounce his way down the hallway, painting an audio picture for the man, then bring the tennis ball back to him and snuggle affectionately in the man’s lap.

Then there was the foursome of fairly active women who never failed to have a plate of treats for Earl Grey. They either coaxed relatives into bringing dog biscuits in for them, or they baked “liver brownie cake,” a strange concoction of beef liver and oatmeal. Theodosia thought the liver brownie cake looked a great deal like liver pâté but tasted like sawdust. Earl Grey, on the other hand, found it a gourmet delight.

These experiences were all enormously rewarding for Theodosia, and sometimes, driving home at night, her eyes would fill with tears as she remembered a certain incident that had touched her heart. She’d have to pull the car over to the side of the road, search for her hanky, and tell Earl Grey, once again, what a truly magnificent fellow he was.