At the Oncology Ward
Royal Women's Hospital, Melbourne
on his weekend visit as therapy dog,
our Labrador greets equally all nurses
and patients, the brisk, the sad,
the bare-bald-headed, even. Men
he's liable to woof at questioningly.
I don't see this, I'm outside
waiting to chauffeur him home
with his proud mistress.
'Did he behave well this time?'
He did. He didn't shy away from anyone.
He didn't steal biscuits, this time.
He specially liked the woman and baby
breast-feeding. (It's whispered that giving
birth may advance a woman's cancer.)
'And - he posed for snaps. I found myself
mentioning how recently our old dog died.
"What of?" - couldn't utter
the word "cancer" - "old age".'
Next visit same staff, most likely.
Patients – a new set,
some will have gone home,
others maybe to a hospice, or further.
Max Richards
Wednesday 3 March 2010
------------------------------------------------------------
This email was sent from Netspace Webmail: http://www.netspace.net.au
|