Trooper, The Healing Puppy

There is much that can be said about the healing natures of man's "best friend." or pets in general in assisting in the well-being of one who may be sick, or the wonderful aide of a "Seeing Eye Dog", great stories of heroic rescues, animals bringing attention to a home-owner of a fire with insistent barking, and so much more.

On my own personal experiences with animals (dogs), my family has always had one within the household. From the very first pet I can recall, a funny dog named "Toodles", which I believe was a mixed breed, part miniature poodle, sweet, friendly, and fur graying, I had always enjoyed in them.

In 1991, our own family pet, attacked me. Something within the dog's brain made him become mentally imbalanced. The tough part was, I loved the dog, he was a big ball of fluff, Chow, with a thick coat of fur, and I babied him, walked him, fed him, and never thought this animal would ever hurt me. Even when that day came, which caused nightmares, I still was sick that the officers unfortunately had to put him down.

On medications, and having nightmares, my mother was a great mentor. She really understood my impressions upon our family dog, but also wanted me to heal, not only physically but emotionally too. She set out in search of fulfilling that quest. A couple of other dogs were brought home, some with a bit of triggering personalities, given to another who understood those qualities and could care for the animal just the same, and/or train them.

One day my mother came home with a big smile on her face, saying to me, "How's my sweet trooper doing today? I have something for you." I did a half grin with swollen and stitched face, and I said, "Mom, you don't need to keep doing all this stuff, we need other things..." She just looked at me and said, "Just open my purse, and quit worrying, we'll manage, we always do, right now, there's you and I think it will bring a smile."

I opened up the purse and couldn't help but get a great big smile, nearly popping some stitches. A funny tiny blonde teacup poodle appeared before me, happy as can be as he sat in the palm of my hand, and licked at me. He was the cutest little thing I ever did see, and I looked him over and found his tail had been clipped and he was bearing stitches. We later named him "Trooper" after my mother's terms for me during the course of my recovery. Interestingly enough, nightmares I had ceased, and though I still have a fluttering caution with dogs, the process of healing, was helped along in a very good way. As years have passed and so with it my little "Trooper" in 1998, much to be said in appreciation of that one amazing little influence in my life.