By Kim Palchikoff
In today’s grim world of social distancing and isolation, our computers, iPhones and iPads have turned to pretty much every kind of virtual reality known to mankind. In addition to the basic conversations held on Skype, FaceTime and Zoom, now there’s virtual dance parties, cocktail and happy hours, online family and alumni reunions, even online Scrabble games played by two or more individuals from their perspective pieces of digital machinery.
These are all great ways to stay social, battle loneliness, and simply stay sane during coronavirus days.
Cruising through the Internet for other virtual ideas, I came across one perfect for me and my 4-year-old chocolate-colored pitbull-boxer named Bella: Apparently these days there are virtual therapy dogs that pose in front of a computer for others to imbibe their love and kindness, kind of like zoos that stream their animals live in their own habitat as they lie in the mud, nuzzle their offspring or eat from a tree.
In pre-virus days, therapy dogs visited people in hospitals and schools, nursing homes and even libraries where children read to the sleepy-looking pets. Their mission was simple: to sit or lie down peacefully while strangers in need of some TLC pet their backs, scratch their ears, give them belly rubs.
I got excited when I adopted Bella two years ago. She has the temperament and behavior necessary for a therapy dog. She doesn’t have a mean bone in her body. She doesn’t run away, bark, snarl, or chew things she’s not supposed to. She’s very quiet, patient and follows me around.
There was only one problem: Bella is afraid of strangers and doesn’t like them touching her. If she sees an unknown hand in the air, she shrinks back and crawls between my legs. Once she gets to know someone, it’s a different story: She wags her tail and treats them like family. But that can take some time.
Bella is a simple dog. Apart from shaking a paw occasionally, she doesn’t do any tricks. She doesn’t lie down and play dead or fetch balls. She doesn’t like to heel when we go for walks.
But she’s a lover. We snuggle. Watch movies together. At night she sleeps on my bed. She’s a very tactile canine. She likes to lie on my feet, my lap, oblivious to the fact that her 62 pounds can get kind of heavy. But she calms my nerves and makes me feel less anxious about the sickness and death around me. She’s good for my mental health.
These days virtual therapy dogs do the same thing as they normally would in person: They lie there and do nothing. Sure, it’s a lot better when someone can pet them — petting is supposed to be therapeutic, after all. But happy hours and dance parties are also better when they’re in person. And that’s not going to happen anytime soon.
They say that a dog is a man’s (or woman’s) best friend. In Bella’s case, it’s true. I know there are probably millions of pets out there helping you get through some really rough times. I’d like to hear about them and see their photos. You can email me at palchikoff@gmail.com.
