I am writing you all as the calendar turns to 9/11 here in NYC.
We have all seen the pictures of the search and rescue dogs who worked for days on end trying to find survivors in the rubble. What sticks in my mind, being a Golden Retriever owner, is the photo of the Golden search and rescue dog, Riley, being suspended over the rubble, on his way to looking for possible survivors. But the photos of all the dogs – the Shepherds, the Malinois, the Lab mixes, the Heinz 57 mixes – working, exhausted, focused, never failing to provide comfort to their fellow human workers. I can’t help but tear up when see these images or re-read the story of Roselle, the Yellow Lab service dog, who safely guided her owner from his desk on the 78th floor of the World Trade Center to safety in the midst of smoke, debris, and chaos.
As a New Yorker myself, I have some personal memories from those days and the aftermath. And as a dog lover, many of these personal memories involve dogs.
I remember the legions of therapy dogs being brought in to provide comfort to those in distress. I remember veterinarians rushing down to see if they could offer assistance. I remember the makeshift housing accommodations set up in Manhattan’s piers for those dogs displaced in the days after 9/11. The lower part of the city was barricaded off, and if you had left your apartment in lower Manhattan on the morning of September 11, there was a good chance your dog was stranded for days in your apartment because the police and the army were preventing people from going back into these areas.
What I saw on September 11, in the midst of this incomprehensible tragedy, encapsulated what I had always known about dogs. They are humankind’s best friends, invaluable to all of us for their skills, their acute senses, their unfailing stamina and their willingness always to go beyond. And they are also individuals who connect and bond with each of us differently on a personal level that goes beyond the mere fact that they can smell better, hear better, go into places we cannot.
This is why when I got my Golden, Diego, I wanted to share the enormous gift of having a dog with everyone, but also let Diego’s personality lead us to what he could do best. When he turned one, we explored all sorts of options. We tried search and rescue but I, his owner, was not that skilled at it, and we tried water rescue where Diego accomplished all the initial tasks until he discovered his true love – hunting fish … And we tried therapy dog work… And he excelled!!! We are a certified therapy dog team now, and Diego has brought his mellow, steady love to many people in need. We have seen hospital patients get out of bed for the first time, autistic children come out of their shells, and much more. I am privileged everyday to be able to share Diego's own skills and special traits with those who may need it most.
So I guess what I am saying on this day is let us take a moment to remember what happened – the tragedy, the loss, the wounds that won’t heal – but let us dog lovers also take a moment to remember how our dogs played an invaluable role in helping us through this time, how each of our dogs has a special gift that we can share with those around us, and, quite simply, how blessed we are to have these remarkable and most loyal best friends.