Roger has severe rheumatoid arthritis, he moves with the aid of two walkers. In order to touch Red, he has to sit down on the weight machine chair and lean forward. Red, as he often does, seems to understand what Roger is trying to do. He gets up off of the carpet where he lies quietly during most of rehab, and he steps forward, so that Roger can reach him. He does not move too close, nor does he get too far.

When Roger is in position – it took him a couple of minutes – Red moved forward, into his hand, where the two remained still for a few moments, and then Roger got off the weight machine and resumed his work in rehab. Red has transformed the tone and feeling of rehab, everyone greets him and visits him in between their workouts. He treats each one differently, moving differently, waiting patiently for people to come to him. I do not grasp how he does this, or even why, I just marvel at his sensitivity.

I feel differently about rehab now, and I am not certain why either. Our connection to one another is growing, Red seemed to open something up. Today, the head of the hospital came in and was surprised to see Red there, he watched him for a few moments, was told he is a therapy dog. Keep him here, he said, all of the time.