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I was touched by this - thought you all might be too.
Peggy

Dogs Help Terrorist Attack Victims
       By BETH J. HARPAZ
       Associated Press Writer

       October 27, 2001, 1:41 PM EDT

       NEW YORK -- There's always a dog on the ferry that takes victims'
families to the place where the World Trade Center once stood.

       And there's always someone on the boat who needs to pat the dog.

       "You're so alive," murmured one mourner as she scooped up Annie,
a small caramel-and-white dog, on the way to the site of so many deaths.

       Annie is one of several dozen dogs who bring smiles to
tear-streaked faces, comfort to stressed-out workers, and companionship
to distressed children at a center where victims of the World Trade Center
attacks come for help. A dog travels on the ferry on its twice-a-day
journey from the center to ground zero, about three miles down the Hudson
River.

       The dogs, leashed and accompanied by their handlers, also work in
other areas near the family center -- the desks where death certificates
are issued, a day care center, the lines for rent and food money, the
rooms where chaplains and psychologists offer counseling.

       The animals provide a simple, happy antidote to grief and
anxiety. If you pat a dog, the dog will like you; it's really that
simple.

       There's also a physical benefit: Studies show that when people
interact with animals, it lowers their blood pressure and heart rate,
according to psychologist Stephanie LaFarge, senior director of counseling
at the ASPCA.

       "You wouldn't expect to see dogs in a place where you come to get
death certificates, but it gives people the feeling that it can't be all
that bad here if there are dogs here," LaFarge said.

       One day last week, a woman left the center weeping and a chaplain
asked if she wanted to pat a dog. The woman nodded, and Sailor, a calm
and solid Portuguese water dog, went to work.

       Later, back inside, Sailor lay down while two brothers, age 2 and
3, fed her goldfish crackers, prattled babytalk and patted her black
fur, soft as a plush stuffed animal's. "This is the most rewarding thing
I've ever done," said Sailor's handler, Jean Ervasti, who lives in Brooklyn
and has a doctorate in education.

       Nearby, Minnie, a tiger-striped mutt with a cartoonish wolflike
snout, stopped to be patted by a middle-aged woman.

       "My own dog's been acting out lately," the woman told Minnie's
handler.

       "Do you know why the dog is acting out?" Minnie's handler asked.

       "My husband is missing," the woman calmly responded.

       Across the street, some 20-something volunteers from Americorps
took a lunchtime break with the dogs. Like many workers spending long
hours helping victims, the Americorps volunteers say the dogs help them get
through the day.

       "People just drop what they're doing and get down on their knees
and start talking doggie talk: 'Oooh, you're so cute,"' explained Kelley
Wall, 24.

       "For that brief moment that you're playing with them, they make
you forget," added Carey Gibbons, 20.

       Cops, firefighters and soldiers also love playing with the dogs.

       "It's OK for them to be soft and goofy and nurturing to a small
12-pound spaniel," said Annie's owner, Elizabeth Teal.

       The dogs, whose owners are all volunteers, range from big mutts
to tiny purebreds. All come from organizations like the Delta Society,
the Good Dog Foundation, Therapy Dogs International and Thera-Pet,
which train dogs to work in nursing homes, hospitals and centers for
special-needs children. Some groups call them therapy pets, others use the
phrase comfort dogs or pet partners.

       But few animals are accustomed to the intense conditions and
constant attention of the family center, so their time there is limited
to two hours a day, a few days a week. Even so, they're exhausted after
absorbing all that emotion. Some must be carried out; others sleep all
the way home.

       The day after a sobbing firefighter's widow threw her arms around
Jesse, a golden retriever, "Jesse's eyes were bloodshot," said the dog's

       owner, Mario Canzoneri. "He was lying down. He wasn't the same
dog. You'd think that dog had pulled 100 pounds on a sled for a month."

       Canzoneri, a plumbing contractor from Staten Island, is credited
with getting dogs into the center. He started out by bringing Jesse and
his other dog, Jake, to parks and hospitals around Manhattan in the
days after Sept. 11, just to give dazed and grieving New Yorkers some
happy dog time.

       Eventually, Canzoneri and the dogs stood outside the family
center. An instant hit, they were soon invited in. It worked out so well
that now a half-dozen dogs are there at any one time.

       To avoid upsetting people with dog fears or allergies, the
handlers have the dogs wait until someone makes eye contact or invites a
pat.  LaFarge says so far, there have been no complaints.

       Yet handlers say the animals also have an uncanny ability to seek
out those in need. Fidel, a feathery brown-and-white confection of a
pooch, approached a woman who was crying and she instantly picked him
up.

       "He really sensed my pain," said the woman, a single mother who
lost her job in the disaster.

       "Dogs speak a universal language," said Rachel McPherson, Fidel's
owner. "They break the ice. Good dogs are good medicine."

       Joanna Hernandez, 2, patted Sailor as her parents told their
story. Her father was injured as he fled the twin towers, and now isn't
working. "It's very difficult," said Joanna's mother, Carla. "But the dogs
are nice for her."

       Linda Burdick, whose daughter Danielle loves the dogs, has been
staying in hotels since her apartment near ground zero became unlivable.

       "The dogs give you a sense of normalcy," she said. "New York
feels so evil now, but here all these innocent, sweet dogs."

       Jewel St. Hillaire says the dogs did wonders for her son. Her
husband, a security supervisor at the twin towers, was badly burned as
he fled the attack, and their 7-year-old son began acting out in school.

       Then the boy met the dogs at the center.

       "When he touched the dogs, they were sensitive to him," St.
Hillaire said. "They put their heads in his lap. If you have a sulky
look, they look back at you the same way. If you pat your chest,
they give you a hug.

       "They can tell," she added, "if your heart is broken.