Well Noodle has done it again. Worked her way as an assistance dog into yet another hospital! Regular readers will remember the first part of the saga when I battled to keep her with me in a Paediatrics ward. You can read ‘How to Smuggle a Dog into a Hospital’ here.
We had a very difficult first fortnight in my new unit, questions and issues rained down on myself and my furry colleague near constantly. The subsequent flood filled me with hate for the whole hospital and very nearly washed me out the door. But we got through it. We learnt to groom before seeing the staff who will comment on Noodle’s shedding winter coat and we compromised on many an issue.
On admission I told the hospital about Noodle’s magic powers. But I don’t think they really believed that the little dog (rather shabby looking after a seven hour drive) could do all these things I was telling them.
The first time it happened they thought it was a fluke.
The second time they thought it was odd.
The third, they thought it was lucky.
The fourth, they realised that she is amazing.
And then it clicked. When Noodle watches me go into crisis, often dangerous or disabling for me, she will get out of the room. In fact sometimes she predicts it and won’t go in to the room at all. She will then do everything she can to get human assistance for me. In a ward like my current one there are many fire doors, so she is limited to pacing and barking, but at my old open plan unit she could run straight to the office and then straight back to me. Staff find her at the other side of a door and she greets them with what I have coined ‘The Sneeze of Needing Back Up’. It is distinctively loud and repeated over and over. Head up, head down, head up, head down. In all honesty it does look like the dog is trying to tell you she needs to place an urgent last minute bid on EBay. Either that or she has been given some sort of amphetamine.
Naturally, the incoming member of staff is usually slightly surprised at being so enthusiastically greeted by a Guide Dog who is usually the definition of cool, calm and reserved. On realising that I am not with her they begin checking for me everywhere, but I will always be behind the door that the dog runs to.
I have no idea what I would do without her. She’s learnt her technique over time. It has evolved as my health has deteriorated. She has done ambulances, she’s done three hospitals AND survived my final year of secondary school. I am beginning to wonder if there is anything this little dog can’t do?!