Marshel

I am telling you this from the get go, I have never been much of an animal person. When I was growing up we didn't have pets because I was severely allergic. All I was was allowed were the occasional goldfish or turtle my father would spring for when we went to the circus. But, I never longed for a pet either.

About fourteen years ago I noticed my husband was obsessively pouring over his computer. I wondered what he was doing on that computer day and night. At the time, my Marriage and Family Therapy Practice was in full swing, and coincidentally two of the couples I was working with were dealing with the husbands' addiction to pornography which they accessed on their computers. Feeling only slightly guilty I logged on to my husbands computer to see what I could find out. It took me about thirty seconds to find out that he wasn't into porn at all. He was looking for a puppy. I found page after page of websites offering puppies for sale. I noticed too, that my husband had narrowed down his search to include only hypoallergenic puppies. Which he had narrowed down even further to Labradoodles.

I shut down my husband's computer and did some serious thinking . At this point in time my husband was retired and had been struggling, and quite valiently I will add, with Parkinson's disease. I had read a fir amount of literature as a therapist about how dogs can be incredibly and almost miraculously helpful as therapy dogs. I was very excited. This we could do- get a puppy for my husband.

I immediately went to my husband in my confessional mode, I apologized, told him why I had invaded his privacy, and how in the process had discovered he wasn't addicted to porn but simply wanted a puppy. I said, "We must get you a dog."

He said, "You want a dog now after all these years?"

I said, "Absolutely not, but you do and I think it would be wonderful for you. But you are in charge of the whole puppy process. I am really busy with work. If you can pull this off I am with you all the way."

He wasted not a minute in finding the perfect little labradoodle. He was white with tones of apricot and a curly, non-shedding coat. The breeder lived in Maine and we were in Connecticut. He actually hired a driver for the trip to Maine because he knew he would have to keep the puppy on his lap for the triip home.Meanwhile, I charged my eldest son and his two daughters to help us pick the best name using the first initials of all of the grandchildren: M, E, H, L, S. they came up with Marshel and Shlomie. We went with Marshel.

As promised my husband undertook the training and most of the care of Marshel. clearly they had bonded immediately. Marshel rarely left my husband's side. As for me, I can't say I fell in love with him, but objectively I could see that he was an absolutely adorable and delightful creature. We all lived very well together.

Then as time with Marshel went on I started to notice something really extraordinary. Marshel seemed to have trained himself to be my husband's Parkinson's therapy dog. The first time I took note of this occurred after I heard ferocious barking coming from the room where my husband and Marshel had been in front of the TV. When I went into the room screaming at Marshel to stop barking, I stopped short when I saw my husband lying on the floor. After I helped my husband get up and settled I hugged Marshel and said ,"Thank you for telling me."

I can't tell you how many times since that day Marshel informed that my husband was in distress. Sometimes he would simply bark, like the first time, sometimes he would come to me and face me, and it seemed as though he was trying to speak to me. But I learned to listen to him always. And Marshel was never wrong. He learned to come and get me when my husband was in a Parkinsonian freeze and just couldn't move. It was amazing to witness. Marshel never became my dog, he was always my husband's dog. But I like to think that Marshle and I were committed partners inn the care of my husband. How beautiful is that?

Two months ago we had to put Marshel to sleep. Oddly, or maybe not so oddly, he was mirroring my husband's symptoms. Marshel could barely walk and was plagued with infections. In addition, he was blind and probably deaf. I took him to the Vet and the Vet said, Nancy, this is it. We've done everything."

Although I knew Marshel was doing poorly, I didn't think it was nnow, that minute. But it was. I held Marshel in my arms and whispered to him what a wonderful dog he was and what a great ride it had been having him in our lives. And then I wept my heart out.