Lawrence and Brumby

The dogs make a window visit.

Photo by Peggie Ven

Pat with Brumby and Sonnet

Brumby cuddles with Aunt Ruth

They are someone’s mother, father, sister, brother, uncle and aunt. They were once adored by their grandparents. They fought in wars, taught school and Sunday School, raised families, nursed the dying.  And now they are exiles. Just around the corner from our homes or on the way to work, we pass their facilities every day: nursing homes, rehabilitation centers, memory care facilities. And they sit by their windows and watch us pass by.

Seniors meet Brumby and Sonnet

Senior citizens have always held special honor for me and my husband Chuck. I had volunteered at a local nursing home and loved the experience. But being a dog lover, I knew I wanted to someday focus on therapy dogs in that setting. In 2013, God brought two brilliant Shetland Sheepdogs into our lives, Brumby and Sonnet. We didn’t know it at the time, but they were to be our entrée into one of the most rewarding activities of our lives.

Shortly after we got Brumby, he had his first therapy dog experience with Chuck’s aunt, who was in a care center. She adored dogs, so we put Brumby in her lap. She was thrilled, and he melted right into her.  We knew that we finally had our therapy dog. A few months later, I started taking him to a nursing home nearby, going room to room to visit with the residents. In each room, I placed him on their beds where, in his intuitive manner, he cuddled down and often laid his head on their chests. I could almost literally see the anxiety and depression melting away as they petted him, often whispering: “You’re my baby,” “Nita loves you,” “Don’t I just love you.” And for the nonverbal, I saw softened eyes, little smiles, fingers buried in long Sheltie fur. This was the magic I had heard of, and it thrilled me.

When Chuck retired a year later, he started coming on visits with me. He brought Sonnet along, and she proved herself just as adept at sensing who needed a gentle hello, laying her beautiful muzzle on their laps, and gazing up at them with love. And, since she looks like a small Lassie, she was a conversation starter with many who had had collies in their younger years.

Therapy dogs provide a bridge to seniors

Through the bridge of therapy dogs, we have grown to love each one of these people. We pray for them.  We tell them about Jesus’ love. We consider it a great honor to use our dogs to bring some blessing into their lives. And when we can’t be there to visit for some reason, we write letters or postcards to them and send them pictures.

In the past year, because of COVID-19, we have necessarily been banned from visiting our friends indoors. And no one else, including family members, has been able to visit them either. They are more than ever unwilling exiles from all that gives them familiarity and comfort. But that hasn’t stopped us.  With help from the activities staff, we do window visits, talking on the phone with the residents we know, while holding Brumby or Sonnet up to the window so they can see them. The staff members say these visits are the highlights of the residents’ day, and they will often be talking about it long afterwards. And the magic never stops; one resident who had not spoken or interacted with us in several years saw us outside his window one day during a recent visit and waved to us.

Our only regret: That we don’t have more time. The more visits we make, the more need we see. But we are grateful to do the little we can, loving the honorable elders whose lives continue to make a difference.


Chuck and Peggie Venemon live in Buckley, WA.  Chuck is a retired physical therapist and Peggie is a retired librarian.  They are active in their church, Rainier Hills Christian Fellowship. Chuck loves outdoor activities, both recreational and taking care of their acre of lawn and garden. Peggie loves dog sports and shows Brumby and Sonnet in obedience, rally and barnhunt.