My dogs are familiar faces around the nursing home. The staff all know them. The residents know them. Most of the visitors know them.
They know the routine. We park. We stop outside for a wee break and we take the lift to the second floor stopping to say hi to anyone who shows an interest.
If the occasion is right we'll stay around for a bit for a cuddle or a pat (I never get either but I digress). "Those dogs always look so happy," one resident is fond of saying.
And happy they are. A visit to Regis at Lutwyche is a visit to Margaret and for both parties it is just like it always has been. There's a cuddle, a scratch and a bit of a feed. The dogs will sit on the bed or under the chair. They'll clean up the deck and let anyone who knocks on the door know they are on duty.
And if it's cool enough we then walk by the creek and stop under Margaret's window on our way back. She whistles at them and they wag their tails just like they used to do at home. And everyone is happy.
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