Penny the Piggybank, Tim Hoehn

therapy dogs must enjoy meeting people and being the center of attention. It’s the joy these dogs bring to meeting the children that make Paws to Read@MHS work.

While the testing is rigorous, becoming a registered therapy dog is not beyond the reach of many pet dogs and their owners. If you are intrigued by the idea of volunteering with your dog, Monadnock Humane Society offers a variety of programs to assist owners of friendly dogs in getting their four-legged friend registered. Monadnock Therapy Pets, a support group for therapy dog handlers and people interested in therapy dog work, meets monthly on the 2nd Wednesday of the month. Its meetings are free and open to the public; they ask you not bring your dog to the first meeting you attend. For more information about either Paws to Read@MHS or registering your dog as a therapy dog, you may contact Amee Abel, MHS Volunteer Coordinator at AmeeA@ humanecommunity.org or by phone at (603) 352-9011 ext 147.

Amee Abel is a Tester/Observer for Therapy Dogs, Inc., and the founder of the Monadnock Humane Society’s therapy dog volunteer program. Additionally, she is currently the Volunteer Coordinator for Monadnock Humane Society.

Reading to a dog makes reading fun. This is Boone listening to Kennedy Smith. photo courtesy Carol Laughner, 2015

Penny the Piggy Bank

It’s been more than three decades since I grew up on our farm, at times it seems like yesterday. I remember the closeness of our family, despite the struggles and hardships my parents endured; they lovingly taught us a strong work ethic, and an appreciation for others, including animals.

Our barn was not unlike most in northern New England…some cows, a few birds, plenty of cats and one special pig. Dad named her “Penny” because, “I’m banking on that litter this spring,” his popular phrase each mud season. Although I didn’t care about the finances, the fact that Penny had a name meant she was a pet!

This one particular spring, a barn cat had a litter about the same time as Penny had hers. The only two things I can recall about the cat were, Dad tolerated her because she was a good mouser, and shortly after she had had kittens she came up missing. The dinner conversation regarding this situation was brief, with a statement along the lines of, “getting rid of the kittens.” When I asked why, they explained that it would be far worse to let them suffer from starvation and that, “they need a mother.” "A mother! I could be their mother”, I pleaded. I’m sure my folks finally tired of me begging to take care of six barn kittens. I’m sure they figured I’d probably give up after a few days and nights of tending to the “kits”, and maybe they were right.

The barn felt like a nursery. In one corner there was Penny with her piglets, in the other, a bed of hay the kittens called home. Imagine my surprise, when after school one day, I found the “kits” snuggled in among the piglets taking turns on the teats of Penny. My mom talked about maternal instincts. Dad just uttered, “That’s the darnedest thing.” while scratching his head.

All six of those cats made it through kitten-hood. As the years went by, we would all comment during barn chores about Penny, her “kits”, and the special bond between them. It was not unusual to see Penny letting the cats eat out of the slop bucket first, and although pigs are clean animals, time and time again we would witness Penny receiving a cat “tongue bath”.

Growing up on a farm taught me an important lesson. When things look bleak, help may come from the most unexpected of places.