Laura S

Description

Our beloved Schmulik, a Staffordshire Bull Terrier, died on December 15th, 2008 from a rapidly advancing cancer. We spent his last days with him, cuddling him, loving him, and talking with him about his enormous contributions to the many humans whose paths he has crossed. Schmulik was a full-time psychotherapist, a role that he took on from the moment he came home with Laura, in the fall of 1995. Sitting in her lap or in his crate, he learned at an early age to be fully present with people who were in terrible emotional pain. He would lean his head on people ’s knees when they dissociated, reminding them that they were safely in the present moment where he resided, jump on the couch and cuddle next to them while they were having flashbacks so that they could know that they were not alone, kiss them when they were crying. If someone needed to be distracted, he ’d assist by rolling on the floor and waggling on his back in the most silly manner possible. If being left alone was in order, Schmu would lie quietly on the floor or in another chair, or take himself to his crate to nap. He would sometimes sleep curled up into one of his clients, exuding calm and gentle snores, reminding people that safety was possible, and that he was its embodiment. As the receptionist at Laura ’s office he would bound joyously down the hallway, greet each client with enthusiasm, and then herd us back to the office, sometimes turning around to bark forcefully as if to ask, “what ’s keeping you humans? ” Schmu even attended a workshop on ethics in psychotherapy in his first year of life, where he sat quietly for a full day in Laura ’s lap. Schmu was a flirt par excellence. He never met a human being he did not try to bag for his collection, using his big brown eyes and wagging whip of a tail to let someone know that they were his new best friend. He learned that the word “cute ” meant that he was about to be petted, and how to behave so as to evoke the words and the actions. During his final illness one of the few things that got him off the bed was the arrival of a human in the house; he was never too ill to get up, wag, and give kisses to his human family members who were coming to see him to say goodbye. He loved to play tug of anything, a game at which he could best the strongest of humans, and he loved to cuddle. In fact, he was a tenth-degree black belt cuddler, ferocious in his ability to meld into the body of a human. He had very strict rules about where and how cuddling should take place, and trained us to follow them. He was an avid seeker of new experiences, particularly new things to smell, and enjoyed going for rides in every vehicle except Laura ’s Mini, whose seats he found way too hard. He was deeply committed to being a good dog, even when this meant sitting on the porch shaking with the urge to go after cats —and then not doing so. In his last days his commitment to his dignity and to doing what he had learned to do, no matter how weak he was, was impressive.

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