I want to thank you especially for your work. It helped me do some good around here. It may seem like drudgery to you sometimes, but it means the world to me. I was a found dog. My paws were cut, I was hungry, and I was abandoned. A kind Dad named Stephen found me, brought me home, fed me and cleaned me up. He took me to a veterinarian who bound my wounds, and he introduced me to Rosie and Charlie.

Rosie told Charlie it would be OK to keep me, but I saw he had some doubts. I guess he never saw a 150-pound dog before. After about a month Charlie and I were wrestling and he bit my ear. He was the first human to do that. I looked at him, and he looked at me. After that he was my Master.

One day I was looking and smelling just great, and my Master took me to Mystical Boutique to get groomed. It was awful and smelly. The Mistress there, Judy Camerlingo, was very nice and I liked her. She liked me, too. She said I was too big to pick up and put in the tub, so she made her son do it. After grooming she told Rosie and Master that I should be a therapy dog. Master said I didn't need therapy and that I was just fine. But Judy said therapy dogs don't get therapy, they give therapy. They go to nursing homes and hospitals and visit shut-ins and cheer them up. Master wasn't too keen on the idea, but Rosie said Master and I had too much extra time on our hands, and this would be for our own good.

Off to Mystic Dog School for training. I liked the other dogs and had a good time. I passed my General Obedience Course. Then on to Donna's Victory Dog Training for the Therapy Dog test, and I passed. Donna is one of those special people called TDI Evaluators who my Master says have magical powers to understand us dogs, and she does. They are sort of Angels for dogs. He doesn't really know that, but I do. She doesn't speak loud because she doesn't have to.

I got my TDI identification card, and shortly after we went on our first visit to Saratoga Nursing Home to see Master's Dad, who was 91. He was so happy to see me!

Then something terrible happened in the Big City. There were a lot of people in sorrow, in great need. We got up early and took long trips in the car with Ursula (the Chief Angel) and Wusel, sometimes from early morning until after dark. We met lots of people who checked us out, like the American Red Cross, the ASPCA, and the Mayor's Office. Then late one night at 8:30 we finally made it to the Family Assistance Center on the Pier. Unfortunately, there was a bomb scare and we were told to go stand behind the men with machine guns. After it was over we only had 15 minutes in the center, but it was great.

For many days after that, the moment my Master put on my bandana I knew something good was happening. He built a ramp so I could get in the car myself, because I'm too big for him to lift. We drove over the bridge and down to the Family Assistance Center. We parked on top by the Police. We walked down the ramp through the armed guards, past the American Red Cross tent, and into the center. There were a lot of people there. Some were upset, some were in shock, some confused, and some were sad. They had scents of loved ones who were not there, and I don't know where those loved ones were. They liked petting me and I liked it too. We spent a lot of days and evenings there. Some knew me by name and I knew their scent.

I got a lot of awards and recognition for what I did, but I'd trade them all in for one more visit to the Pier. One more 6 AM wake-up call. One more tying of the bandana. One more walk up my ramp. One more trip across the bridge to the Pier, with my ears flapping in the breeze of the open car window. One more entrance past the American Red Cross tent (and, yes, a biscuit from the sweet young woman there). One more search to see who might need a friend right now. And when we are done, one more long drive home through the tunnel, thirsty, exhausted, and satisfied. I have never felt this good in my life.

Of all the things I'll miss, I'll miss my family and Therapy Dogging most. To me they are the same, just like being at home with my Master's children, Sarah, Emily and Jamie, and the cats, too. Everyone wants to see me and is happy to see me. I will never, ever stop wagging my tail.

I wrote this letter to you personally because you personally made a huge difference in my life. Thank You!

 May 2003 Written by Harry Bird

See photos of Harry at Pier 94.