At Levine Children’s Hospital, Therapy Dogs Provide “A Special Kind of Medicine” – Charlotte Magazine

Last winter, after a little boy at Levine Children’s Hospital entered end-of-life care, his doctors and nurses wanted to give the boy and his family happy moments together in the hospital. They called in a specialist.

Enter Sprout, a 4-year-old Labrador retriever.

Sprout is the key member of the Art & Barks program at the oncology and hemophilia clinic at Levine Children’s Hospital. The program combines two things most kids love: crafts and dogs. That day, as the boy, his mom, and his sister colored together, Sprout rested his head on the table, looking on. He posed on a pedestal while they sketched him, and they even designed dog sweaters for Sprout. The family spent hours that day at Art & Barks, drawing and taking pictures together and cuddling Sprout. The mementos became priceless works of art. 

“I felt that we were making this special moment, this special memory, that they were going to cherish forever,” says Andrea Klauss, a program coordinator for Arts For Life, a nonprofit that partners with Levine Children’s Hospital. “It just felt natural, very therapeutic for everyone.”

What is it about a dog? What makes some of the most renowned medical specialists in the country step aside to let a dog step in? Christina Hall, a physical therapist at the hospital, sees again and again how dogs motivate and calm kids. It’s one thing to ask a child in PT to take a lap around the hall, she says; it’s completely different to ask if they want to help her take Sprout for a walk.

“Kids want to do more for a dog. It makes therapy fun,” says Hall, who’s on the leadership team for Happy2Heal, Levine Children’s Hospital’s pet therapy program. “A hospital can be daunting and scary, and it’s like the dog tells them, ‘It’s OK, you can pet me and just hang out with me.’”

Alaska is another local pet therapy star. She’s a 7-year-old golden retriever who spent the first part of her life as a mama dog for a breeder. Now, she lives with Ray Angele, and they both enjoy retirement jobs as volunteers at Novant Health Huntersville Medical Center. Each week, they roam the halls and make themselves available for anyone who wants a furry visitor. Many do.

One time, Alaska got an urgent call. A patient with complications during labor needed an emergency cesarean section. Understandably, the woman’s anxiety spiked, and doctors hoped she could calm down before surgery. At this stressful moment, the woman had a surprising request: Didn’t she see a therapy dog in the hall? Could she pet it? 

Alaska, mama of 28 puppies, knew a thing or two about delivery. She sat next to the patient’s bed, and the two moms had a few quiet moments together. 

“When she got to cuddle Alaska, all of her anxiety faded away,” says Sharon Hall, the hospital’s volunteer coordinator. “And she told her doctors, ‘I’m ready now. Thank you so much.’”

Alaska’s healing powers are familiar to Angele. He says Alaska comes from three generations of therapy dogs, and she hardly required training before she aced her pet therapy qualification test. She was born to help. When patients and their families request a visit, Alaska senses who needs her most.

“All the time, families will ask me, ‘How does she know?’” Angele says. “I don’t know how Alaska senses something different with one person, but she always goes to the person who’s hurting the most and will lay at their feet. I can’t prove it scientifically, but it’s happened so many times.”

Alaska and the hospital’s other four therapy dogs perform little miracles regularly, Hall says. She’s seen a hospice patient rest their hand on a dog’s head and enter a state of calm, and she’s seen people waiting in the emergency department soothe their rattled nerves by rubbing a dog’s belly. Sometimes, a dog is a patient’s only company. When nurses notice that someone doesn’t have visitors, they’ll ask the patient if they’d like to see a therapy dog—and almost always, they light up and say yes.

“It’s a special kind of medicine,” Angele says. “I got to talking to a 95-year-old veteran who wanted a visit with Alaska, and he wanted to talk to me about all of the dogs he had over his past 75 years. You see people talking, playing with Alaska, and for a little while, they forget why they’re there.”