Dogs Help Terrorist Attack Victims
By BETH J. HARPAZ, Associated Press Writer
Joanna Hernandez, 2, plays with Sailor, a Portuguese
water dog, near the victims' family center, Tuesday,
Oct. 23, 2001, in New York. Sailor is among a group of
dogs trained to provide comfort and emotional therapy
that are made available to the center for people affected
by the World Trade Center disaster. Joanna's father,
Rafael Hernandez, was injured while on the job inside
one of the towers when it was hit by a plane last Sept.
11, but escaped alive. (AP Photo/Bebeto Matthews)
NEW YORK (AP) - There's always a dog on the ferry that takes victims' families to the place where the World Trade Center once stood.
And there's always someone on the boat who needs to pat the dog.
``You're so alive,'' murmured one mourner as she scooped up Annie, a small caramel-and-white dog, on the way to the site of so many deaths.
Annie is one of several dozen dogs who bring smiles to tear-streaked faces, comfort to stressed-out workers, and companionship to distressed children at a center where victims of the World Trade Center attacks come for help. A dog travels on the ferry on its twice-a-day journey from the center to ground zero, about three miles down the Hudson River.
The dogs, leashed and accompanied by their handlers, also work in other areas near the family center - the desks where death certificates are issued, a day care center, the lines for rent and food money, the rooms where chaplains and psychologists offer counseling.
The animals provide a simple, happy antidote to grief and anxiety. If you pat a dog, the dog will like you; it's really that simple.
There's also a physical benefit: Studies show that when people interact with animals, it lowers their blood pressure and heart rate, according to psychologist Stephanie LaFarge, senior director of counseling at the ASPCA.
``You wouldn't expect to see dogs in a place where you come to get death certificates, but it gives people the feeling that it can't be all that bad here if there are dogs here,'' LaFarge said.
One day last week, a woman left the center weeping and a chaplain asked if she wanted to pat a dog. The woman nodded, and Sailor, a calm and solid Portuguese water dog, went to work.
Later, back inside, Sailor lay down while two brothers, age 2 and 3, fed her goldfish crackers, prattled babytalk and patted her black fur, soft as a plush stuffed animal's. ``This is the most rewarding thing I've ever done,'' said Sailor's handler, Jean Ervasti, who lives in Brooklyn and has a doctorate in education.
Nearby, Minnie, a tiger-striped mutt with a cartoonish wolflike snout, stopped to be patted by a middle-aged woman.
``My own dog's been acting out lately,'' the woman told Minnie's handler.
``Do you know why the dog is acting out?'' Minnie's handler asked.
``My husband is missing,'' the woman calmly responded.
Across the street, some 20-something volunteers from Americorps took a lunchtime break with the dogs. Like many workers spending long hours helping victims, the Americorps volunteers say the dogs help them get through the day.
``People just drop what they're doing and get down on their knees and start talking doggie talk: 'Oooh, you're so cute,''' explained Kelley Wall, 24.
``For that brief moment that you're playing with them, they make you forget,'' added Carey Gibbons, 20.
Cops, firefighters and soldiers also love playing with the dogs.
``It's OK for them to be soft and goofy and nurturing to a small 12-pound spaniel,'' said Annie's owner, Elizabeth Teal.
The dogs, whose owners are all volunteers, range from big mutts to tiny purebreds. All come from organizations like the Delta Society, the Good Dog Foundation, Therapy Dogs International and Thera-Pet, which train dogs to work in nursing homes, hospitals and centers for special-needs children. Some groups call them therapy pets, others use the phrase comfort dogs or pet partners.
But few animals are accustomed to the intense conditions and constant attention of the family center, so their time there is limited to two hours a day, a few days a week. Even so, they're exhausted after absorbing all that emotion. Some must be carried out; others sleep all the way home.
The day after a sobbing firefighter's widow threw her arms around Jesse, a golden retriever, ``Jesse's eyes were bloodshot,'' said the dog's owner, Mario Canzoneri. ``He was lying down. He wasn't the same dog. You'd think that dog had pulled 100 pounds on a sled for a month.''
Canzoneri, a plumbing contractor from Staten Island, is credited with getting dogs into the center. He started out by bringing Jesse and his other dog, Jake, to parks and hospitals around Manhattan in the days after Sept. 11, just to give dazed and grieving New Yorkers some happy dog time.
Eventually, Canzoneri and the dogs stood outside the family center. An instant hit, they were soon invited in. It worked out so well that now a half-dozen dogs are there at any one time.
To avoid upsetting people with dog fears or allergies, the handlers have the dogs wait until someone makes eye contact or invites a pat. LaFarge says so far, there have been no complaints.
Yet handlers say the animals also have an uncanny ability to seek out those in need. Fidel, a feathery brown-and-white confection of a pooch, approached a woman who was crying and she instantly picked him up.
``He really sensed my pain,'' said the woman, a single mother who lost her job in the disaster.
``Dogs speak a universal language,'' said Rachel McPherson, Fidel's owner. ``They break the ice. Good dogs are good medicine.''
Joanna Hernandez, 2, patted Sailor as her parents told their story. Her father was injured as he fled the twin towers, and now isn't working. ``It's very difficult,'' said Joanna's mother, Carla. ``But the dogs are nice for her.''
Linda Burdick, whose daughter Danielle loves the dogs, has been staying in hotels since her apartment near ground zero became unlivable. ``The dogs give you a sense of normalcy,'' she said. ``New York feels so evil now, but here all these innocent, sweet dogs.''
Jewel St. Hillaire says the dogs did wonders for her son. Her husband, a security supervisor at the twin towers, was badly burned as he fled the attack, and their 7-year-old son began acting out in school.
Then the boy met the dogs at the center.
``When he touched the dogs, they were sensitive to him,'' St. Hillaire said. ``They put their heads in his lap. If you have a sulky look, they look back at you the same way. If you pat your chest, they give you a hug.
``They can tell,'' she added, ``if your heart is broken.''
-- Anonymous, October 27, 2001