Dog scholars like Stanley Coren and Patrician McConnell, and James Serpell believe that some dogs possess the ability to sense the emotions of the humans they live with.

They are almost psychic, or they are psychic. Dogs are believed to communicate with one another in the same way some autistic children communicate – through images.

They imagine what we are thinking through images, not words.  They picture us as they sense what we are feeling.

I believe Zinnia is a dog who can do this with great skill. She has become a wonderful therapy dog. Today, I was her patient.

This special gift is partly why dogs have done so well with people, while most animals have not. Not all dogs have this gift – it depends somewhat on their relationship and interaction with the people around them.

If it is encouraged, it can flourish and expand.

When I first brought Zinnia to Bishop Maginn – a few months after our first visit, Sue Silverstein, a friend, and teacher, invited her into her classroom.

I waited outside the door; I wanted her to get used to being in classrooms and feel safe without me. A moment later, Sue stuck her head out and motioned for me to come into the class.

When I did, Sue, who was in tears, pointed to a corner of the classroom and to Zinnia, who had gone to the corner and put her head on the knee of a student who was crying and was now wiping her tears with a handkerchief.

Sue whispered that the girl was upset upon learning her mother had been rushed to the hospital after an auto accident.

Zinnia, she said, had come into the room and spotted the girl, and tail wagging, went over to her and put her head on the girl’s knee and looked up into her eyes.

Sue said Zinnia spotted her the minute she came into the class, which had 20 or 30 loud children in it.

The girl was startled, said Sue, then smiled, then laughed, then leaned over to kiss Zinnia, who gently lovingly licked her hand, then her cheek.

The student, a senior this year, was one of those who voted to make Zinnia the school’s Prom Queen at graduation. She told me Zinnia had pulled her out of her fear and panic and brought her to a peaceful place, as good therapy dogs are supposed to do.

I witnessed similar scenes with Zinnia at the school and many more times at the Mansion, where residents at the edge of life would often be sitting alone, missing their families, worrying about their future.

Zinnia has always had the gift of sensing people in trouble; it isn’t a skill one can really teach. She senses emotion and most often puts her head on their knees and looks up into their eyes.

I love watching them light up and smile; it is a beautiful thing to see every time.

I call Zinnia the Queen of Sweet; she needed very little therapy dog training; sensing people who need help or are in distress seems to be something she does instinctively. Of course, I can’t know what she is thinking, but I sometimes sense what she is feeling.

And today, I was the beneficiary of her goodness. It is raining up here on the farm, no color, no light, and I am weary of wearing this boot on my foot, and frankly, of my foot hurting and needing bandage changes every day.

I have to keep off the foot for most of these next two weeks, so a wound there will finally heel.

I’m not built for lying around much; I need to get back to my work at the Mansion and Bishop Maginn. Then, when I have nothing to do, and it’s raining, I can go to bad places.

I felt a bit sorry for myself, and then I felt ahead on my arm, which was resting on my knee, and smiled.

I don’t claim to know what she was thinking, but the look suggested she was looking right into my soul. Everything felt just fine, it’s all right.

It was Zinnia, of course. The minute I started to sink, she got up from across the room and came over to me.

The Iphone was right by my hand, and she had the good grace to keep the pose. She reminds me of how lucky I am.

And I smiled and leaned over and kissed her on the nose.