How Animals Connect with Vulnerable People
How Animals Connect with Vulnerable People
One of the most incredible moments with my animals happened at a Dementia care
home.
As a visitor, I greeted the residents holding Gretel (she’s my gorgeous
German giant rabbit). This was a way of making a positive
first impression and gauging the response to animals.
Once, whilst I engaged with residents, a lady roamed around the room,
appearing aimless. She constantly muttered to herself and seemed
oblivious to all around her.
At one point, she marched towards me. I moved to avoid her, but she blocked my path. Her face fixed on Gretel’s.
She outstretched her arms and cupped Gretel’s cheeks. Then, grinning broadly, she started chatting. Only this time, her words were crystal clear and eloquent.
She spoke to Gretel like a long lost friend; telling her how thrilled she was to meet her and how her husband used to breed rabbits just like her. Meanwhile, Gretel lapped up the affection (her ears twitched as if listening intently).
As this lady engaged in a ‘normal’ conversation with my rabbit, her
carers cried with emotion. Grabbing their phones, they started filming. It
turns out this lady had been ‘unreachable’ ever since living there.
Luckily, they recorded a few seconds before she kissed Gretel’s forehead
and whispered, “Goodbye, sweetheart.”
And that was it. She turned away and began pacing again as if nothing had happened.
Days later, the family contacted me to say how grateful they were for
the footage and, of course, to thank Gretel.
Although the lady is no longer with us (sadly, neither is my girl), I occasionally visit the home. Proud memories flood back of Gretel captivating that lady for those precious moments.
In this post, I share some memorable meetings between my animals and
vulnerable people.
Care Home Encounters
Ethel and Enid (my guinea pigs) loved
visiting care homes.
For them, it was the chance to chill on a warm lap whilst being showered with affection - and fed their favourite treats.
Besides people gaining pleasure from stroking them, there’s also a positive effect on mental, physical and psychological health. Research shows animal interactions reduce stress, lower blood pressure and release mood-boosting hormones.
Indeed, Enid was so ‘natural’ at relaxing residents that she (and
sometimes both of them) ended up napping.
And it wasn’t only furry animals that had a therapeutic impact …
Once, at a Nursing home, I met a gentleman with advanced Alzheimer’s.
The staff advised me not to approach him as he refused to take part in activities. In
addition, they told me he was feeling agitated that day, and sometimes, in
frustration, he could become aggressive.
What’s more, he’d never shown an interest in animals, including therapy
dogs or even the home’s cats.
And sure enough, as I passed by, he didn’t even glance at Gretel - I don’t
think she was too impressed.
Anyway, later in the session, I introduced, Sweetcorn (my stunning corn
snake). As you can imagine, people react to her in various ways...
On this occasion, I’ve never seen a gentleman in his 60’s shift so swiftly. His face beamed as he surrounded Sweetcorn. Stroking her, he marvelled at her dry, silky skin (some people think snakes are slimy).
Then after holding her, it was as though he’d been entranced.
Later on, I heard he’d developed a passion for cuddling the house cats! I like to
think that’s down to how he connected with Sweetcorn that day.
Anyway, back to guinea pigs…
Residents were encouraged to hand-feed them as a way of bonding. In return, Ethel and Enid expected a ‘reward’
for the privilege of being pampered.
The only trouble was if Ethel thought I’d forgotten, she alerted me (and everybody else) by a loud and repetitive squeal.
Once, whilst being petted by a senior lady (who was hard of hearing),
she started shouting for ‘treat time’.
The lady looked so peaceful that I didn’t want to disturb
her, but I had to. She couldn’t
hear the racket Ethel was making, so I intervened with a bag of spinach.
As I offered the lady some leaves to feed Ethel, she seemed bewildered.
“No, thank you, duck. I’m not hungry,” she declared.
I tried to explain they were meant for my guinea pig, but it only made matters
worse. Eventually, she dismissed
whatever I was saying and glanced at her carer as if to say, ‘Who is this
idiot, and why is he trying to feed me leaves?’
Then, (as if it was her idea), she grabbed some spinach and suggested I try my guinea pig instead. When her carer explained the misunderstanding, she found the whole situation hilarious.
Meanwhile, Ethel had waited long enough...
She snatched her prize from the lady’s hand and started scoffing (which
tickled her even more).
As I was leaving that afternoon, she called me over. “I like
animals more than people, duck,”
she revealed.
I just laughed. What can you say
to that?
Connecting
with Young People
When visiting a Young Offenders Unit, my first concern was for my animals (and me). Even with security measures, I still worried. How would young people locked up for serious crimes respond to animals?
As they filed in, they filled the room with boisterous banter. With all the commotion, I struggled to be
heard - never mind giving any ground rules.
Entering the adjacent quiet room (where my animals were resting), I thought, ‘Oh
dear, this isn’t going to end well.’
However, once I emerged holding Bernie (my sturdy tortoise), it was as if I’d pressed a volume down button.
Instantly, the group adjusted their rowdy behaviour.
Surprisingly, the ‘loudest’ lad insisted his peers keep the noise down
around animals. He then demonstrated how
to hold a tortoise correctly before smothering her with affection.
Witnessing a ‘tough’ young man nurse Bernie like a baby was truly heartwarming.
Most of the young offenders had violent backgrounds, yet they were
classed as vulnerable or at high risk.
This was due to complex issues such as social exclusion and mental health
problems.
One lad told me that he felt safe around animals and trusted them because they didn’t judge him. Another said that he found it difficult mixing with people, but he could just be himself with animals.
Overall, not only were the youngsters a massive credit to themselves,
but they also proved a point. Even in
challenging conditions, animals can bring out the best in human nature.
Sometimes, the connection between vulnerable people and animals has a
profound influence…
A young person that comes to mind is a girl with learning
difficulties. She had a lovely personality and was bright and cheerful.
She did, however, have difficulty regulating her emotions and often
became over-excited. In addition, her heavy-handedness and tendency
to squeeze (sometimes directed towards other children) made interactions
tricky.
Aware the girl could grab at any time, I hovered over my trusty tortoise
Bernie - who hid in her shell if things got too rough.
Remarkably, as if instinctively aware that animals are vulnerable, she
caressed her with calm and gentle hands.
As a result, she participated in and enjoyed the whole session. Not only that, but it was also the catalyst
for teaching her restraint around other children.
In the end, the only issue was this young lady’s ‘enthusiasm’ for
showing fondness.
Embracing my animals was fine, but I had to draw the line at kissing them - especially Usain (my giant African snail).
Another example of a natural affinity with animals occurred in a school
for children with special educational needs…
Many youngsters with autism connect better with animals than people -
since both often use non-verbal cues for communication.
I remember a young man who was ultra-sensitive to noise, so he wore thick-padded
ear defenders. On top of this, he was hyperactive, which made
engagement even more challenging.
However, when he saw my animals, it always triggered the same response…
First of all, he’d freeze. After that, he'd rest the earphones on his shoulders and pay attention. Next, with his forefinger only, he’d reach out and explore the animal's texture.
Then, after watching for any movements, he listened intently for sounds. Finally, as if soaking up every sensation, he’d take one long sniff.
And when satisfied, he'd scarper (he didn’t hang around for small-talk).
I once made the mistake of approaching him without an animal. The ear protection stayed on; he showed me his back and ignored me like I was an invisible stranger.
It taught me a lesson that day…
To never forget that without my animals, I’m merely a man.
I'm intrigued to hear what you think
(Please leave a comment or share below)
For regular posts and updates subscribe here
Comments
Post a Comment