Red returned to his regular work at the Mansion today, a week-and-a-half after his collapse in the pasture, a day in which I thought he would never come back to work.

I spotted Linda the same time Red did, I have never her before. Red’s ears went up and he showed me why his work is so important, and why he is so good at it.

He and I can both spot a newcomer to the Mansion. Coming to live in an assisted care facility is a profoundly complex and difficult moment for the elderly.

It means leaving the ordinary and familiar life behind forever –  home, family, routines, even pets. For families, it means turning a loved over to strangers in the hope they will be loving and care.

For the newcomer, there is a look of shock and disbelief, and often, fear and confusion. Sometimes there is acceptance, sometimes depression, sometimes relief at having people around to help day and night.

The Mansion staff is especially vigilant and present during these first days. I knew the look when I saw it, we went over to Linda and I introduced myself and Red. Linda struggled to grasp the idea of the therapy dog, and kept asking if Red could return often. I said he would.

I asked Linda if she liked to read, and she said she did, but she said she had trouble finding books that were right for her. I told her I would bring her some books and she could choose what she liked.

Red was right there, offering his paw, putting his head on her knee.

As we visited, her granddaughter appeared to say hello and bring chocolates to the staff. I could see the anxiety in her face, she wanted to know her grandmother would be well cared for. She knew me, she knew I wrote books, and I told her Red and I would keep an eye on Linda, and the staff was vigilant and conscientious and loving.

I hoped it made her feel better, the first day is a trauma for everyone, a new chapter that changes life forever. It was great to see Red back at work, he knows what he is doing.