My father spent the last three years of his life in a nursing home. Fortunately this home allowed visits from the family dog. We took our Schipperke quite often.

As I am in a wheel chair, she was used to being around them. She thought every person in a chair was obliged to pet her. She stopped at nearly every person and wouldn't leave until they pet her.

My father's room mate was practically comotose. The only sign of life we saw from him was that he would open his mouth if you put food in front of him. One day Mom took Purp, our schip, and dropped him on the room mate's bed. As usual, Purp started nosing under his hand. Within a few minutes we saw his hand begin to move toward the dog. Pretty soon he was stroking her. This was the only sign of life we ever saw from the man. He died soon after. I was always glad we introduced the two of them, man and dog.

A dog is good medicine.