Barley gave me freedom. To go for a walk by myself, to go shopping, to travel, to continue working when part of my job was going from building to building across campus. I was never alone because I had Barley with me. No longer did people stare at me because I was in a wheelchair. They stared at Barley and his amazing ability to pull. No longer the lady in the wheelchair going slow, I was the lady with the dog everyone loved and he brought a smile to their faces.

I could write a book about Caber. The book would begin with an idea. The idea that a dog could help victims of crime in ways that humans could not. Like some ideas that seem to fizzle, this idea stayed front and centre in my mind until I did something about it.

One day, on the way to cuddling, I stopped at the hospital to visit my beloved uncle. While I was there, the Doctor advised my uncle that his cancer was terminal. After crying my heart out I continued to puppy cuddle. When I stepped into little Quaker’s kennel he sat there staring intently into my face, then when I sat down with him he licked a tear off my face then pressed hard against my body as he slid into my lap. He continued looking into my eyes and I believe he could feel my pain and was saying “I’m here for you”.