Gary was such a cool dude right from the beginning. He was so gentle that I thought he would make a perfect companion for my regular shifts at St. Michael’s Hospice. He was certified by Pets as Therapy as ‘good to go’ at one year of age. What a guy!

He hit it off with the Medical Care Team and the patients. He seemed to know it was serious business, and so his puppy enthusiasm was always left at the entrance. The only times he broke his calm demeanor were when there was a dog, cat, or horse on the TV in someone’s room—then he would bark or howl, which generally made people laugh.

I used to carry treats in my pockets for patients to feed him if they wished, but I had to stop doing that because he started staring at my pockets instead of visiting! He was, of course, my boy, and I never really had to hold the leash—he would simply be my shadow in every room I entered.

Families especially loved a cuddle with Gary and the chance to talk about past or current pets. His presence lifted the spirits of every room that welcomed him.

One woman called him her dog, she loved him so much. She even insisted on purchasing treats for him when he visited. People held him, cuddled him, stroked him, cried with him, and just seemed to find peace in his curly, warm-headed embrace.

Gary left us too soon. He was a month shy of his 7th birthday. He became suddenly ill, and within two weeks, he had died from aggressive lymphoma. We were heartbroken, as so many are when losing a loved one.

It took a few weeks before I could return to my regular shift, and it still feels wrong to be without my boy. He opened doors—and hearts—for people.

We have a deposit on a new puppy who will come to us in September. With any luck, he too will grow into a loving pet volunteer.

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— Judy Dixon

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