The gift of pet therapy
By Cheryl Courtney Semick | 2nd August 2007
Bonnie marched down the hall to my office beaming from ear-to-ear. Her hands were filled with gift bags and I couldn’t fathom the occasion.
“It’s July 3rd” she said. Her face tilted as she read my expression. “Did you forget? You’ve had Bootsie for a year!”
Yes, that’s right, I said. A year ago July 3 we adopted her mother’s kitty cat, Bootsie Lou.
One gift bag was stuffed with two bright pink quilts – one for Boots and one for our kitten, Tawny. Each quilt was handmade with love by one of Bonnie’s many friends. The words, ‘Meow,’ ‘Kitten,’ and ‘Cats,’ encircled animated pictures of pink cats of all shapes and attitudes. I giggled with delight at the thoughtful and totally unexpected gifts, imagining how many naps each quilt would accommodate.
The other bag contained a laser toy. Need I say how much fun was waiting in this small item?
The next day, 4th of July 2007, I was up at dawn having breakfast in our dining room and eyed the laser toy lying on the table. I picked it up and pressed the button, aiming the laser beam onto the floor in front of Tawny.
It was magic. The tiny light held our ADHD kitten completely within its grasp. With it, she followed the dance I choreographed and I cannot remember when I had laughed so hard. Bootsie tried catching the mysterious red dot a time or two but was soon stressed by her manic sister and trotted off to test out her new quilt.
As Boots drifted off into cat-land, Tawny searched in futility for the red dot that had since disappeared. This too was as hilarious as when the dot was present and I had no idea until that moment how badly I needed that laugh session.
The year’s variety of challenges has pummeled our hearts and minds with stress untold; the past few months seeming unbearable. But that morning, as I laughed my head off, it dawned on me why the Bible says, “A cheerful heart is good medicine, but a broken spirit saps a person’s strength.” (Proverbs 17:22 NLT)
It all made sense. Bonnie is a nurse! God sent her with Boots last year knowing the storms that were looming on our horizon: the loss of a loved one, loss of income and health issues to name a few.
Our divine feline nurses, wrapped in pretty pink quilts, daily administer the medicine we so desperately need to balance the weight of our days. Our Great Physician perfectly diagnosed our condition and prescribed pet therapy and a nurse named Bonnie.
I’ve never been known as a ‘pet person,’ but Bootsie and Tawny have filled our empty nest with the balm of joy and a shot of fun so wonderful it’s hard to imagine life without them – and Bonnie too, God’s angel, dressed in white and always being gifts.