You
know Christmas is just around the corner when you see reindeer in the
halls. People at my mom’s work reported
multiple reindeer sightings around Christmas-time. Why, Santa must be early! His reindeer are everywhere! Is that Dasher in the cafeteria asking for a
salad to go? Is that the police giving
Prancer a ticket for being double parked?
Hee hee hee. Don’t tell anyone,
but it was actually I, Shamzi the Therapy Dog, disguised as Rudolph, Santa’s
head reindeer. I fooled everyone.
Why would a Chihuahua-Terrier mix be
dressed as a reindeer, you ask? After
all, it’s not Halloween or Mardi Gras. Well,
the holidays can really be a lonely time for people, especially in hospitals
and skilled nursing facilities. No one
likes being sick, and certainly not during the holidays. So I try to bring a little cheer.
My work day isn’t nearly as long as Santa’s,
but it starts early. After a hearty breakfast
of chicken and cereal, I don my costume, check my antlers, and shake my little
caboose.
Then we hit the road. Mom drives because my antlers block my peripheral vision.
Once we arrive at work, the throngs rush out to meet us.
Then we hit the road. Mom drives because my antlers block my peripheral vision.
Once we arrive at work, the throngs rush out to meet us.
I put my mom on a leash so she
doesn’t get lost in the crowd. Everyone
wants to greet me and kiss me. So many
people want to hold me and pose for pictures with me. Instagram, here I am! ...Then I make my rounds, the pitter patter of
my paws tapping urgently on the linoleum floors.
Out of the way, people, I’m on a mission! Got love to spread, cuteness to dispense,
like
colorful sprinkles on a cupcake. 
My poor
mom can’t keep up with me, as I drag her through the halls and from room to
room. (Mom thinks she’s in charge, but
we both know who really holds the leash.)
The hospital staff, who sometimes feel tired and overwhelmed by their
work, scoop me up in their arms as if I were a baby,
momentarily forgetting
that I am a ferocious reindeer.
The
patients, who are often so sad and silent, perk right up when they see me. Some of them can’t speak English but they
convey their delight in their own language.
They gesture with their hands. Their
eyes light up. They cuddle me, and I
cuddle right back. You see, it doesn’t
matter whether they speak the same language, or whether they even believe in
Santa Claus or Christmas. Or anything. I do know that they must believe in love, because that
is the basic, truest language of all. And love is what we all are about. 
