I’d been visiting the hospital with my therapy dog, Riley, for a while now. Most patients lit up the moment they saw him—stroking his golden fur, laughing at his happy tail wags.
But today was different.The nurses led us into a quiet room where an elderly man lay still, eyes fixed on the ceiling. He looked tired, distant—like he hadn’t spoken in a while. His name was Mr. Callahan.
“They say he hasn’t responded much,” one nurse whispered. “Maybe Riley can help.”
I nodded and gave Riley the command. Continues…
