murphy the wonder dog
The young fellow on the left of your screen is Murphy. As you can see, he’s a cute, cuddly, good-natured little dog. We’re not exactly certain what breed he is, though. Might be part golden retriever. Might have some poodle in him. Maybe some lhasa apso. Some day soon, he’ll have a DNA test. Then we’ll know for sure.
Murphy has a special talent. In fact, his claim to fame is rather cool. Murphy, you see, has been a credentialed International Therapy Dog for most of his six years, and at least once a week, he hops in the car, heads downtown, and plies his trade in the Dogs on Call program at the Virginia Commonwealth University Medical Center.
“We just thoroughly love it,” said Missy Herod, Collegiate’s director of student activities and Murphy’s owner, chauffeur, and sidekick. “Murphy’s a patient magnet. When we go into the hospital, we see people in pain, and he makes them smile. You can visibly see that you’re doing something good.”
Murphy had been playing his gig at local nursing homes when a couple of years ago Missy heard a presentation by Denise Ekey, a former Collegiate parent who heads the DOC program at VCU. She and Murphy signed on.
When they check in, they get a list of rooms where patients have requested visits, then, after drawing oohs and aahs from passersby, begin their rounds. Sometimes, Murphy (thankfully, with a sheet under him since, um, he has short legs) gets in bed with his new friend.
“He automatically goes up, lies down, and puts his head on their shoulder,” said Missy, who has a long history of volunteerism. “The patient spends time rubbing him and talking to him. Sometimes, they go to sleep with Murphy in their arms. I just sit there until they wake up.”
If the patient is in a wheelchair, Missy pulls a chair alongside it, places Murphy on the chair, and lets him go to work being his lovable ol’ self. Sometimes, they drop by the physical or occupational therapy departments and immediately brighten spirits. At each stop, Murphy is the icebreaker. While he’s doing his thing, Missy engages the patient in conversation, which often drifts to reminiscences about the pets they’re missing during their hospital stay or ones they had when they were young.
Occasionally, they arrive in the midst of crisis. Several weeks ago, they were at the hospital in the aftermath of a tragic automobile accident which claimed the lives of the coach and a member of the William & Mary fencing team.
“It was very tearful,” recalled Missy. “Murphy walked right there in the center of all the kids. They stayed there hugging him for about two hours. “He senses when someone is suffering. In a group of people, he’ll always walk up to the one who’s the neediest.”
Murphy’s savoir-faire isn’t limited just to the infirm. Missy recalls the time they encountered a physician friend who had just lost a patient, and Murphy instinctively worked his magic. “She was visibly upset,” Missy said. “She borrowed Murphy, took him into the doctors’ lounge, sat down, hugged him, and cried for a while. “I let Murphy go where they need him.”
If Murphy could talk, he might tell you that his uncommon sense of empathy came from his own brushes with mortality. He’s had Rocky Mountain spotted fever and Lyme disease. He was born with an extra hepatic shunt, a condition which affected his liver function. He had two major surgeries at N.C. State and survived only through expert medical care.
Through it all, Missy stuck by him and nursed him back to health, and, perhaps through those shared experiences, their ministry of compassion is more meaningful.
“I don’t care how busy or tired I am,” said Missy. “We go into the hospital, and I’m re-energized. It’s the most wonderful volunteer work I’ve done.”
