Lab Rat to Therapy Dog
Posted by Anne Corke on 2007-09-30. Filed under Monthly Feature
Here's an inspiring story from Stephanie Morris Girton of Paso Robles.
Mr. Jo-Jo was a canine born in a laboratory, part of the beagle/hound group used in radiation experiments at UC Davis. He was whelped in August 1991, the date 08-91 being one of the tattoos on his ears.
From 1991, it appeared this dog’s purpose was being a statistic for how much radiation living matter can endure. His life as any sort of a normal dog seemed bleak. Fast-forward to the summer of 1993, and the funding for these experiments was gone. The people in charge, feeling these canines were unadoptable, made plans to euthanize them. The press intervened, and our Mr. Jo-Jo came to the Marin Humane Society for adoption. Mr. Jo-Jo and his fellow adoptees presented many challenges. They had been institutionalized, disliked humans and had no experience with being dogs — leashes, grass, tennis balls, cats, trees or fire hydrants. These were definitely not cute, cuddly dogs wanting a new home.
My husband and I, seasoned beagle owners, decided to adopt one of these dogs. Our prospective pet, named “Eric” by Marin Humane’s staff, wasn’t pretty. His ears, though feeling like brown velvet, were too long. His eyes were outlined with black fur, making him look like a doggie mascara model. His tail curved too high, his body and snout were too long. Paperwork completed, he became the first UC Davis dog to walk on a leash as he was escorted back to his kennel. From that night on, most of his life was spent breaking records and misconceptions. Within three months, Mr. Jo-Jo became the first laboratory animal to become a registered therapy dog.
A November 1994 visit to Mrs. P. proved remarkable. Entering her room, I noticed an artificial limb leaning against the bed. Mrs. P. was also festooned with tubes going into her hands. Being alert, I checked to see if she’d like a visit. Yes. I then asked if she’d like Mr. Jo-Jo to curl up in bed with her. Despite a lunch tray within reach, Mr. Jo-Jo, ignoring the tray, curled up against her upper body. Stroking him, we started talking about Mrs. P’s history, if she’d had dogs. She mentioned she and her husband used to own hounds and even slept with them. Being a veteran of sleeping with beagles, I felt I could mention beagle snoring and farting. Laughing in remembrance, Mrs. P. agreed that most hounds’ flatulence could instantly empty a room.
Our visit continued. During this time, Mrs. P. remarked Mr. Jo-Jo appeared to be asleep, inferring his docility originated with his napping state. ‘Not true!’ I exclaimed. I had her look down to where she could see Mr. Jo-Jo’s bright, open eyes. I told her he was comfortable to stay where he was, receiving strokes and giving unconditional love.
Mr. Jo-Jo continued his visits to acute-care hospitals, skilled nursing facilities, and retirement homes through early 2006. His presence touched many lives.With these visits, mainly to the elderly, he spread the message that all living things are of value.
That dog, Mr. Jo-Jo, was one of the finest living entities I’ve ever known. He died December 3, 2006. He was 15 years old and had been a member of our family for over 13 years.”