FETCH ME KINDNESS

Koda has always been my mirror. He is the most sensitive soul who has taught me about empathy, compassion and opening your heart to love again. His life as a registered therapy dog has been one of service to others and giving purpose to my own.

Koda has been one of my proudest failures. I had only been working at the humane society for a couple of weeks when a local animal control officer brought in a litter of eight seven-week-old black lab mix puppies. They looked like little bear cubs and I immediately was smitten. I wanted time to acclimate to my new position and adjust to a new schedule, so I had no intention of adopting a new puppy so quickly after starting my new job. But, I was also trying to balance being responsible with my guilt for leaving Nala at home all day at less than a year old. I lost my previous job soon after adopting Nala, so we were together every day during my six month unemployment. During a discussion with a co-worker, she suggested I foster one of the puppies since they weren't quite ready for adoption. It would help socialize the puppy and give me time to decide if it was the right time, and right puppy, for us to adopt. I had never fostered before so I wasn't sure what to expect, but I certainly thought it was a pretty cool job perk- that I could bring a puppy (or dog) home to give it a break from the kennel and help socialize it in a home; even if mine didn't end up being its forever home.

Choosing Koda from the litter honestly happened by default. Since Nala was female, I wanted a male puppy. Out of the litter of eight, there were only two males; one had already been spoken for by another co-worker. That left Koda. Koda was a sensitive, shy and scared puppy. He spent most of the time in the corner of the kennel whining as he tried to curl himself up in a tiny little ball as his brother and sisters pounced around him, screeching and playing with each other. He wanted nothing to do with his littermates, which then just made him the target of their shenanigans inside the kennel. The sounds and chaos of the kennel life overwhelmed him, causing him to withdraw as far inside his own furry shell as he could get.

Bringing Koda home didn't change much, at first. He took to Nala immediately, finding her to be a comforting, nurturing and maternal safe haven. But he wanted nothing to do with people. We would find him hiding under the table, in the shower, in any corner of the house he could find. He would screech when you picked him up and squirm until you put him down.

He absolutely hated being closed up in a kennel and would scream for hours until you let him out. Nala had been a dream to kennel train and, at 11-months-old, she graduated from kennel to being closed off and left home alone in a single room with no issues. Koda would only sleep in the kennel with door closed if Nala was with him. Eventually, after countless sleepless nights and pure exhaustion, I surrendered and gave up on trying to kennel him. I decided cleaning up a chewed slipper or middle of the night bathroom accident was a worthy tradeoff for sleep. But, the destruction and the accidents never followed. He, also exhausted from anxiety and endless screaming, just wanted to be free to curl up on his dog bed with his people and Nala nearby.

If I am being honest, I had no bond with Koda at first. I found him whiny, annoying and he tested my patience. His anxiety doubled mine. After a week of fostering, I planned to bring him back to the shelter so he could be adopted into his forever home. Even though I didn't bond with Koda, Nala and my ex had. My ex and I had decided we wanted to adopt another dog to keep Nala company and Koda had already started mirroring everything Nala did, so we thought perhaps training Koda would come easily with her as his mentor. My ex had become smitten with Koda as well so we decided we would adopt him- just two days before Valentine's Day. We named him Koda from the movie Brother Bear, not only because he looked like a little bear cub, but because it meant loyal friend.

It took years for me to genuinely start to bond with my foster fail, Koda. Mostly because I never felt I understood him. He didn't respond to the mainstream methods of training and socialization. It was infuriating. He was a puzzle I couldn't figure out, and still is somedays. As the twists and turns of life brought me heartbreak, grief, and major changes, Koda struggled to adapt. Aiden was my sanctuary. He wrapped himself around me during my darkest moments and remained steadfast as I soaked his yellow fur with my tears. Nala was my copilot. She stuck by me and rode the waves of life with me. She was my rock. But every time I reacted to life with tears, anger, or any kind of emotion that wasn't joy or calm, Koda retreated. For a long time, I resented him. I could't take care of his emotional needs when mine needed nurturing. I felt abandoned just when I needed my loyal friend the most.

Koda and I reached a turning point in our relationship after Aiden crossed Rainbow Bridge. Aiden and I had been volunteering together a therapy dog team for a year, so when he passed, it left a hole. I have always been dedicated to volunteering and giving back through service in my community, but I realized how much I loved volunteering with my four-legged partner and I missed it. Koda was five at the time and Nala was six. I wasn't sure either of them would qualify that late in their life, but obviously they both proved me wrong.

I first knew Koda was meant to live a life of service when he stepped in for a volunteer gig that I had committed to with Aiden. Despite not being official, the event was a collaboration with the humane society to surprise a local elementary school with a four-legged guest as a Mystery Reader for their literacy curriculum. Aiden had been a great ambassador for animal rescue and adoption and how he overcame neglect to become a therapy dog. A humane society alum himself, Koda was an ideal stand in, so they welcomed him.

Koda has been a natural therapy dog from day one, especially with kids. Truthfully, he is the only one out of my three who has ever truly loved and thrived at it. Nala and Aiden enjoyed it as an activity we did together, but Koda has found purpose in service to others. Over the years we have visited hundreds of kids in schools through outreach programs, comforted bereaved children and families, encouraged literacy through his library reading program, provided academic support to college students, and currently round on healthcare workers to provide stress relief during the pandemic.

Watching Koda thrive as a therapy dog has taught me a lot about him, myself and the world around me. All those years I struggled to understand him, it was because I didn't understand myself. He is my mirror. Koda is an empath. It is what makes him a great therapy dog. Comforting others gives him a positive outlet to for his empathy.

One of my favorite stories about him is when he was called to visit a pediatric patient who was in heart failure and was waiting to be air lifted to Boston Children's Hospital. When we arrived in the patient's room, Koda greeted the young boy but then immediately gravitated towards the boy's mom. She and I kept encouraging him to interact with the boy, but he kept returning to the mother. Finally, he sat next to her and laid his head on her lap and wouldn't move. As the Lifeflight staff entered the room to prepare her son for air travel, she started to pet Koda and the tears began to flow. Her husband and mother were home packing to drive and meet her in Boston. She was there alone to accompany her son in the helicopter. She started talking about her son's medical diagnosis, how scared she was, and what a special dog Koda was. I fought back tears the whole time. Koda knew the sun was getting taken care of by the medical professionals, so he was there to take care of mom. I had never been prouder or more in awe of him

That is only one of many stories of how Koda intuitively and empathically works. I no longer try to advise or guide Koda, instead he guides me through our interactions.

Koda's anxiety doesn't come from a history of abuse or defective genes. It comes from his profound empathy. His oversensitive nature that often tests my patience is also his greatest strength. It is what helps him excel as a therapy dog. But as an overly sensitive and highly intuitive empath myself, it is also depleting. After visits, Koda often retreats to his open-door kennel or our guest room to relax and rejuvenate. I no longer take it personally when I am having an emotional melt down and he withdraws. I now know he is not only giving me space to unravel, but he is taking his own space to protect and reserve his energy. I know he is sending me his love energetically from the back room and he comforts me when he is ready and able. I am now able to accept and honor this about him, rather than be infuriated and feel rejected by it.

My bond with Koda has deepened over the last years and I am finally seeing what a gift I gave myself 11 Valentine's Days ago. Koda is one of the kindest dogs I know. Besides his therapy dog work, every day he walks a heart-centered life. I have always referred to him as my sweet, handsome gentleman. When we go for hikes, he always makes sure he is right by my side offering me assistance in case I lose my footing. He slows down and waits for me on ice, and braces next to me down steep cliffs. Just as he did with Nala, he always lets Ru lead or enter or exit the house or car first. If she wants a taste out of his bowl, he steps aside and lets her eat. He hates when people argue and is always concerned about the welfare of others. If he hears a baby cry or our cat wail because he is stuck in the basement, he makes sure I pay attention and rise to help.

None of these skills would help him survive in the wild I am sure, but right now, I think our world could surely benefit from being a little more like Koda . He reminds us to slow down, take a deep breath and be kind. Not only to each other but also ourselves; to retreat when we need to reserve and replenish our energy, share the food on our plate with friends, hold the door for strangers, volunteer to help someone in need, and offer a listening ear or a comforting touch. Quite simply: to be a gentleman.

A few weeks ago, I was driving home, distracted and impatient to get there when I reached a trail crossing that cut across the road. We walk this trail regularly and cars always fly through the crossing, failing to let walkers cross. I get so mad. So this day I drove through it carefully with intention and noticed a man waiting patiently to cross. Three cars coming from both directions sped through. I slowed down and stopped to let him cross. When he got to the other side, he paused, turned, raised his hands to heart in prayer position and bowed his head to me as he mouthed "thank you." I know he couldn't hear me, but I responded with "Namaste to you too, sir." In no way did I expect that response, but that simple gesture of gratitude made me smile. It flipped on an instant switch of happiness and gratitude.

Just like that man crossing the road, my gentleman of a dog Koda shows me how small caring gestures can go a long way, inspiring me everyday to Fetch Me Kindness.

Kindly,

Stacey & Koda