DR. WILLIE'S BEST DAY
(An email written to his friends by Willie's human, Clyde, on Dr. Willie's Very Best Day)

Today Dr. Willie went to the hospital to make his rounds among the patients in neurosciences. It started as an ordinary visit, but as we arrived a group of ladies in the hallway noticed the doc and petted him. When I explained that he was there to visit patients, they begged for him to visit an elderly lady relative who had been brought in that morning with a stroke. She loved her own dogs, they said; she was comotose and unresponsive and scheduled for immediate surgery to relieve pressure on her brain. Arrangements were quickly made with the attending doctors and Willie went in and was placed on her bed beside her. She had not spoken or moved or opened her eyes since she had been brought in. I was thinking it might be a waste of time.

But when I placed Dr. Willie on the bed beside her and put her limp hand on Willie’s back...her eyes opened and she said in a strained voice, “DOG”. All hell broke lose as her family, at least 6 of them, crowded around and began to cry and shout. The old lady petted Willie with her hands and they were amazed at that. The doctor was quickly called and began to fire questions at the lady but she ignored him and spoke only to Willie telling him in a garbled speach that her dog was white.

It was the first time she had spoken or moved on her own since she had the stroke. Her family ran to get the other family members from the waiting room and soon the room was crowded with crying pople. She spoke to no one but Dr. Willie who just licked her hand and they both smiled.

The doctors were trying to get her to answer questions but she could only see Willie. It was so emotional I offered to leave so the doctors could do their work, but the family would not allow it. After a while she turned to her sister and asked about her own dog. At this point she did not even know she was in the hospital.

The doctors were trying to assess her condition and quickly took over the room and situation and it was apparent that we all would have to leave them to their work. Every one of her many relatives shook my hand many times and petted and hugged Willie as we left—all except the doctors. Willie held his head high as he took his leave. I felt very insignificant as I followed him out holding his leash. The whole ward was in an uproar with the developments. Carts were being rushed in and Willie and I quietly slipped out unnoticed...

I am convinced that this woman’s family may not remember her doctor's name in 6 months but I am sure they will remember Willie’s name...they actually followed us down the hall and shook our hands again...Willie took it all in stride as if it was simply what was expected of him.

It was apparent that the relatives thought that this little ratty-assed 3-legged dog had done more for the poor lady than the expensive doctors. They profusely thanked me and hugged Dr. Willie.
By contrast, our next patient visit was a convict who was being treated and had tattoos from elbow to ass, one tattoo on his belly said, "Please God take this old convict to heaven becouse he has damn sure spent enough time in hell. ” Dr. Willie treated him with the same respect he had shown for the poor old lady.

What a day.............I could hardly drive home.

Clyde

Clyde Hollifield, aka “dirt”, lives on a farm in southeastern Buncombe County with his wife Adrienne, three dogs (Dr. Willie, Angus and George), chickens, trout in the pond, and the periodic raptors he rehabilitates (mostly screech owls lately). He is an inventor, storyteller, artist, wise woodsman and Renaissance man.