A Service Dog

We lost our beloved Jordan yesterday, after thirteen years filled with an abundance of love and long walks in the nearby woods. He was the dog I never thought I’d outlive. But somehow I did. And I’m just plain shattered by the loss, perhaps because Jordan was such an indispensable part of my physical and emotional healing from surgeries, and biochemotherapy and radiation treatments. Jordie wasn’t formally trained to be a service dog, but boy would he ever have made a fine one. He was a wild three-year old when I underwent biochemotherapy, but when I was so weak I could barely walk he knew it and happily walked me around the cul-de-sac at a snail’s pace. And as the days went by and my strength slowly returned, he’d gradually pick up the pace, lead me onto wooded trails and lengthen our walks. When I was bedridden, he was glad to snuggle in and keep close for hours at a time. I couldn’t have done it without you buddy. And I pray that there won’t be a “next time” when I have to.

For Jordan and all of our canine ‘nurses’ who make life at The Hotel Melanoma so much more bearable, here’s my version of Louis Armstrong’s “What A Wonderful World”…



I see trees of green,
Dog noses too.
I see them glued,
At me and you.
And I think to myself,
What a wonderful world.

I see skies of blue,
And snouts gone white.
The bright blessed days,
The snug canine nights.
And I think to myself,
What a wonderful world.

The goldens make the pain slow,
So pretty when they lie.
And also slow their paces,
Their people getting spry,
I see dogs shaking hands.
‘Saying’, "How do you do?"
They're really saying,
"I love you".

I heard puppy’s cry,
I watched him grow,
He learned much more,
Than I'll ever know.
And I think to myself,
What a wonderful world.

Yes, I think to myself,
What a wonderful world.

Oh yeah.