I had been bringing my therapy dog, Riley, to the hospital for a while. Most of the patients would brighten up when they saw him—stroking his golden fur and laughing at his wagging tail.
But today was different. The nurses led us into a quiet room where an elderly man lay still, his eyes fixed on the ceiling. He appeared exhausted, distant—like he hadn’t spoken in some time. His name was Mr. Callahan.
“They say he hasn’t responded much,” one nurse whispered. “Maybe Riley can help.”