I have a story. I had a greyhound who had this beautiful gentle presence, and a perpetual wise expression on his face. (Well, a lot of greys do, but he was special.) I started taking him to nursing homes and hospitals. Many times, an elderly person who had been unresponsive for months, would light up and respond to him. He seemed to know who needed him. I have seen him walk right up to someone in extreme pain (either emotional or physical) and lay his head on a person. (As a vet nurse, I’ve worked with a lot of dogs, and even therapy dogs are generally shy around people in extreme pain or strangers who are extremely emotional.) I find that I am at a loss for words to describe how. . .unusual this dog’s presence was in the company of misery. You just couldn’t shake him.
I was in awe of him, and he was always sweet to me, but I felt that he always held me at arm’s length a bit. It was as if he wasn’t here on earth to be my friend, but to do more. I couldn’t quite bond with him - as if I was somehow unworthy. I referred to myself as “Malcolm’s chauffeur”, and that is pretty much what I was. Last summer he was suddenly ill, and within days was diagnosed with liver cancer - at the young age of 7. He lived for 5 weeks of chemo. During that time, dozens of people came to my home to sit with him for hours, just to be in his presence or to “say good-bye”. Many of these people had greyhounds of their own, but spoke of Malcolm as being “like an angel”. A lot of people told me for the first time how they had adored him at first sight. They used words like “wise”, “old soul,” “angel” when talking about him.
When he died, the vet who put him down openly cried - even though he was an internal medicine specialist vet and worked with terminal illness daily. His techs told me that he never cried in front of clients, but he sobbed that day. He had only known Malcolm in the 5 weeks during which he had treated him.
After Malcolm died, I received over 200 cards and emails, many from people I had no memory of meeting, but who were telling me how they were grieving to hear of his death.
Now, I have owned a lot of pets, and I have worked with a lot of amazing therapy animals. But I have to tell you - there was something supernatural about Malcolm. I really in my heart of hearts think he was something from God - some kind of messager or angel. I’ll always believe that.
