| Pepper and Missy - my first puppy mill foster. |
| Pepper - The Dog That Started it all... |

| The Invisible Wall It had been a long time since we had been in a situation where we could even consider a dog in our family. Our busy schedules of school and work never seemed to allow us the time needed to devote to a new puppy and all the responsibilities of a dog. When we moved to Rhode Island in 1991, things changed. Uprooting the kids from the school and the friends they had known for most of their lives, leaving behind the security and support of our families, staring over in new jobs and in a new home were all very difficult. Of the many changes that occurred after our move, little did I know that having a dog in our lives was to influence my life so drastically. About a year and a half after our arrival, when things had settled down and our new life felt a bit more homelike, we made the decision to add a dog to our family. Summer loomed ahead, and we had two young boys with a lot of free time on their hands. As most children would do, the boys promised to devote their summer to training, working with, and taking responsibility for a dog. As most mothers, I had my doubts. We began our search for the perfect puppy, calling a few local shelters. A few days before we were scheduled to make a visit to one of the shelters, a sign appeared in the neighborhood advertising “free puppies.” My youngest son Mark and I decided to take a walk down the street to see the puppies. A jumble of energy and joy met us as we walked into the yard. Nine puppies surrounded us, eager to see who was visiting. One little pup was smaller than the rest, about half the size of her brothers and sisters. Even though she had long legs and huge ears, she was a tiny thing with a lot of gray in her fur and muzzle. She looked delicate and fragile beside her broad and stocky littermates. Although all the puppies were cute, our eyes and hands kept going back to this delicate little girl. She seemed shy, yet kept coming up to us leaning and touching. She would quietly put her paw on a knee or creep under an outstretched hand. The owner informed us that most of the puppies had already found homes, but she was worried about the tiny girl. “She looks like a little old lady,” she said. "I’m not sure if anyone is going to want her.” I knew that it didn’t matter if anyone else wanted her, she wanted us and we wanted her. We named her Pepper for her “salt and pepper” coloring. She grew quickly into a beautiful and intelligent lady and became an important member of our family. Although at 50 pounds she could appear intimidating, she was definitely not a watch dog. Pepper was always the first to the door to see who was there and always was eager to welcome any stranger into her home. She loved people and seemed to feel it was her responsibility to make every guest – from my son’s best friend to the pizza delivery guy – feel right at home. She was unquestionably the perfect host. What we didn’t realize was the other talent she possessed. One day, while performing her “host duties” Pepper’s other talent quietly and gently appeared. A few years after Pepper entered our lives, a dear friend was diagnosed with cancer. I had met Joyce at my new job. She was a special friend. She was one of those people you can have long, intense conversations with where you end up solving all the world’s troubles in an afternoon. The news of her illness had hit her and those around her very hard. One evening, shortly after her diagnosis, Joyce and a few friends and I got together for our monthly “Girls Night Out” dinner. This month it was at my house. Of course Pepper greeted my friends when they arrived as if each were the most important person on the planet. However, other than Pepper’s enthusiasm, the evening was very subdued. All of us were trying to be supportive, but stepping gingerly around the dreaded word “cancer” in our conversations. There were long, unfilled silences, which had never happened with this group before. As the evening continued, Pepper seemed to have decided that Joyce needed more attention than the rest of us and always seemed to be close to her. All of us had gathered in the kitchen where we chatted about life, work, and families. Joyce sat on the steps that lead from my kitchen up to the family room, a little apart from the rest of us. She occasionally joined in the conversations but was clearly not her usual self. Pepper, carefully seeming to tiptoe up the stairs, gently sat next to Joyce. She got as close to Joyce as she possibly could and placed a paw in my friend’s lap. Pepper leaned her head against Joyce’s chest and sighed, looking up into my friend’s face as only a dog can. Tears immediately appeared in Joyce’s eyes as she wrapped her arms around Pepper. She whispered to Pepper, “Oh my! How did you know how much I needed a hug right now?” A dog had done for my friend what none of us in that room could do. She had broken through the rigid and tightly drawn wall of disease and had, in one small gesture, given love and tenderness when it was needed the most. We were all moved that day by what we had seen in my kitchen, but other than my friend Joyce, no one in that room was more influenced by what had just happened than I. Rarely had I experienced anything that had opened my eyes more than that moment. How had Pepper known what Joyce needed? How could a dog know that a person was ill? Was this some how just a coincidence, a fluke? These were just a few of the questions that plagued my mind over the next few days. I decided I needed to find some answers. Everyone knows about seeing eye dogs and their relationships with people with impaired vision. I had recently seen a television program about dogs that were trained to alert their owners before the onset of epileptic seizures. The theory is that the dog may sense a chemical change in the body right before the start of a seizure. I had heard the term “Pet Therapy” before and had watched a few documentaries about animals that worked in hospitals and nursing homes with the sick and elderly. Soon I was gathering as much information about these subjects as I could. I found out that my revelation in my kitchen was nothing new and that people all over the world, for centuries, had known what working with animals in therapy could do. I soon discovered that my local community college offered a course in “Pet Assisted Therapy” and immediately signed Pepper and myself up for the next session. Probably the most widely know type of Pet Therapy is seen in nursing homes and in pediatric wards of hospitals. Dog food commercials now talk about how having a pet can lower your blood pressure. During my course I learned about a farm where teens with a history of violence cared for animals and discovered the value of life and of all living things. I learned about a Brahma bull in Florida that helped troubled children learn responsibility. I learned about llamas who visit a day care center and saw the smiles and laughs they brought to the faces of the children. However, what I learned most was something that I really knew all along, something most “pet owners” come to know. That animals, especially our companion animals, can have a special power all their own. They don’t need to work in a nursing home, or work with prisoners in a high security prison for others to see that power. That power is unconditional love. To me, this power is most evident in dogs. A dog’s innate personality seems to make dogs some of the best animals for Pet Therapy. To a dog, it doesn’t matter what you look like. It doesn’t matter if you can’t run because you’re sick or in a wheel chair. It doesn’t matter that you can’t talk or see. What matters to a dog is love and affection and attention. They seem to crave it. As Pepper and I began to work together in our Pet Therapy course, I began to personally witness the power of unconditional love and the miracles it can perform. Pepper’s and my first internship in Pet Therapy was working at a center with mentally and physically challenged young people and adults. While most of the people attending the center participated in activities, there was a small group who did not. These few seemed to have isolated themselves within their disabilities. They seemed to have built high and impenetrable walls around themselves where they could exist safe and secure while they peered out at the “normal” world. Even though I had witnessed what animals could do and had seen with my own eyes what Pepper had accomplished in my own kitchen, I was anxious and nervous that first day. We met in a small room at the center. One of the center staff introduced Pepper and me to the five other people in the room. The group ranged in age from late teens to early thirties, each with different challenges in their lives. One member of the group, Ron, was bound into his wheel chair with a complicated apparatus of belts and straps. He had limited control of his limbs, and communicated only with a few sounds. That first day he kept his head down, his eyes hidden under his baseball cap. Another member, Denny, in addition to the other challenges in his life, was blind. That first day was a bit awkward for all of us. I kept Pepper on a tight leash to help curb her enthusiasm over meeting all of these new friends and to keep from frightening anyone. We met each individual and I introduced Pepper and myself. Most of the group was excited to meet Pepper and spent lots of time petting and talking to her. Ron and Denny however, seemed unreachable. The walls they had built around themselves were high and thick. That first day, neither one responded much to Pepper. I was somewhat discouraged, but was determined to keep trying. I need not have worried. The transformation was incredible. Within a few weeks, a young man who could barely move was throwing a Frisbee for a dog and laughing out loud as Pepper bounded after it and returned to place it in his lap. It did not matter to Pepper that sometimes the Frisbee only fell a few inches from the wheel chair, or bounced off the arm of the chair and went careening off in an odd direction. It didn’t matter to Ron either. Soon, a young man who could not see was walking a dog on a leash around a parking lot, stopping to pet her along the way and trying his best to avoid the “yucky tongue” as he grinned from ear to ear. Pepper had once again succeeded where her human counterparts had failed. Not only did the group members interact with Pepper, but they began to participate in other activities at the center. Because my time with the group was part of my training and internship, it was soon time to leave and make way for another student and therapy animal. During our last session we had a party. I brought sodas and cake for our human friends in the group and dog treats for Pepper. We had invited staff members from the center and the parents and guardians of the group members to join us. Ron’s guardian told me she was amazed at the changes in Ron. She explained that on the days Pepper was at the center, Ron was always eager and ready to get there, urging her to hurry. He couldn’t wait until he got home to tell her about Pepper and what they had done. Although it was difficult for him to communicate, he worked hard at doing so. She was amazed that Pepper had broken through and had reached Ron when no one else could. She told me Pepper must be something special. I thought about that for a minute. In that minute I asked myself if I had found answers to any of my questions about Pepper and her behavior with Joyce that day in my kitchen. Just how did Pepper know my friend needed her? How did she know what magic thing to do for each group member to reach them when other, trained professionals could not? I doubt if I will ever have the answer to those questions, but I do have a better understanding and respect for animals. I had learned a lot of technical information – that dogs communicate and are very sensitive to body language, that their sense of smell is thousands of times greater than ours, and that they may be able to “sniff out” and detect cancer cells and other diseases. With everything I learned and had experienced, what I now believe is that somehow Pepper “saw” that my friend was sad and depressed that day. Was there something special about Pepper, something that helped her break through the wall that Ron had spent most of his life building? I agreed, yes, Pepper was special. Pepper knew there had been a chance to get and to receive love and a chance to make another new friend. What was Pepper’s special skill? She never gave up, she never turned away from her task. Persistence and optimism – that’s all it took – along with a wag of her tail, a lick of a hand, the warmth of her touch. Pepper didn’t try to break through the wall or even to climb over the wall. Pepper never even saw the wall. I wrote this story about Pepper about 6 years ago. My friend Joyce passed away a few years ago – lost her struggle to cancer. We lost Pepper about a year ago – she also lost a battle with cancer. But what Pepper showed me that day in my kitchen changed my life a thousandfold and has spread so far and wide. Because of her I went back to college after the kids left home. I became a veterinary technician and am working in an oncology department at an animal hospital. I started working with rescue groups, fostering animals with special needs rescued from puppy mills and abuse and neglect situations. I work hard to help place those special animals with special people that now have a chance to learn what I learned so long ago from a very special dog. That love is unconditional – that love can conquer all. That all it takes is just a paw in the lap, just a gentle lick on a hand, Just A Touch…of Pepper. Debbie Fahrenholz |




| Shortly before she died - on those steps she shared with Joyce |

| Pepper and our granddaughter Tayla |

| Always smiling |
| Pepper's Story - How It All Began |
