SECOND OPINION
Pat Harrold
I like dogs. I even prescribed a dog once. I was working in rural Wales at the time. The patient was a middle-aged widow who suffered from chronic anxiety and depression. She was also overweight and needed exercise. I regret to say that her extended family and I found her hard going as whatever we did was never quite enough.
She lived alone and called on me and her legion of relatives with increasing frequency. All sorts of psychiatric support and treatment had been tried without success.
I eventually hit upon the suggestion that she should get a dog from the pound. To my surprise she took my advice with the only sign of enthusiasm I had ever seen in her.
Shortly afterwards the squat forms of this hitherto reclusive woman and her bull terrier were to be seen waddling enthusiastically up and down the village.
Her attitude changed completely. The company and exercise undoubtedly helped her mood, as did having something to look after, which she did extremely well. I think she benefited from seeing the world from a dog's perspective. She was happy, her family was happy, the dog was happy. It was the most successful bit of prescribing I ever did and cost the NHS nothing.
The benefits dogs have on health are well documented. Children who grow up with dogs have a decreased incidence of asthma. They learn how to respect and care for other living creatures. They may have better communication skills and they undoubtedly go to their pet for comfort and companionship. Owning a dog can reduce your stress levels and lower your blood pressure.
Of course, you have to consider other people's stress levels and be a responsible owner. If you allow your darling little Great Dane to romp freely in a crowded public place, you don't show much respect for other people's blood pressure.
A dog is more in tune with his body than most of us. He knows that it needs exercise. He will greet his lead with wild excitement. How many of us feel like that when we see our gym shoes?
With a dog, it is more straightforward. They eschew the fancy gear, the membership fees and go. All you have to do is dispose of the poo, dispense a worm tablet every few months, teach the dog to return and off you go to a field or beach every day.
In the same time it takes you to watch the news and depress yourself you can get some fresh air and look at the world from a different viewpoint.
The more you think about it you realise that dogs are grounded. They live in the present. A dog doesn't spend time dwelling on the past and fretting about the future. They don't care about your accent or your looks. They don't care about the age of your car or your postal address. If they can clear the tailgate and get a spin to the country, they are content.
My boxer Susie has been a benign presence in my life and in my car for over a decade. Her natural optimism has changed my perspective about work. It's not so much, "wake up and smell the coffee" as "you're awake anyway so let's smell something else".
If I get called at night Susie always impresses me with her attitude. She looks on it as a jaunt. She is a comforting workmate on the journey while the rest of the world sleeps.
As I return from the call I discuss the consultation with her. Like a trusted colleague she listens intently as I expound on the true reason for the call, the differential diagnosis, the appropriate course of action and the outcome. She has never once disagreed with me and as far as I know she has never once breached a patient's confidentiality.
As we drive home her demeanour changes to that of a lively student.
"How about," she seems to suggest, "a quick walk as we're awake anyway."
The ten minutes or so as I watch Susie potter happily around a beach allows the magnitude of nature to put the intense family drama into perspective. The sick child, the drunken scene, the car crash lose their immediacy. I have played my role and now, for my own sake, have to put it behind me.
Once, in the early morning, Susie and a huge badger came face to face. The two powerful animals gazed myopically at each other, then passed peacefully by.
They were for all the world like a consultant surgeon and a consultant physician meeting in a hospital corridor and, each recognising the other's strengths, deciding not to engage unless strictly necessary.
I have lost count of the number of nightmarish call-outs that have been transformed by the presence of this dog so that a measure of peace and a couple of hours sleep are possible.
Dr Pat Harrold is a general practioner in Nenagh, Co Tipperary.
Maurice Neligan is on leave.