Around the hospital, Ty is a bit of a rock star. He gets coy smiles from the ladies and waves from the men, and at the mere sight of him, kids break out into smiles.

The constant affection is a reward for his tireless efforts, and if he’s doing particularly well, he just might get a bone. If it isn’t already obvious, Ty isn’t a nurse or a surgeon. He’s one of St. Joseph Hospital’s therapy dogs, and as he receives his second hug in as many minutes it’s clear he loves what he does.

Physical therapist Claudia Peters brought the first puppy to the hospital in 1998. The hospital visits were originally intended to train the puppy for the nonprofit Canine Companions for Independence, but they had a lovely side effect.

“I saw what a difference it made for patients,” Peters says. “You forget about being in the hospital. You forget about how lousy you feel.”

After training a few puppies, Peters applied for a facility dog, and that’s when a sweet-faced golden retriever named Ty made the scene. Now Peters’ dogs, Ty and her younger Delta Society-certified dog Hartney, are fixtures in the hospital.

“They know what they’re supposed to do, which is really nice,” she says.

Other volunteers also bring in their dogs, which are usually certified Delta dogs.

“You can’t just bring your dog in,” she says. “You have to have them certified.”

FURRY THERAPY

Though dogs are usually more at home at veterinary offices than hospitals, people have gotten used to the canines making the rounds at St. Joseph.

“Some people are really surprised to see a dog in the hospital,” Peters says. “Most people talk to the dogs, not me. They know the dogs’ names, not mine.”

It might seem difficult to keep dogs in the sanitary environs of a hospital, but Peters says allergies haven’t been an issue. To keep the dogs clean and healthy, they are bathed once a week and go to the vet every year. “They actually have a file with occupational health with all the rest of us,” she says.

And the dogs are more than just pretty, furry faces. Patients use them as exercise tools. The simple act of petting a dog can be therapy, as the repeated motion can help stroke victims practice using their hands and arms. Walking the dogs helps patients with rehabilitation and work on balance, and it’s a lot more fun with a dog by your side than walking alone.

“People work longer when they’ve got the dogs,” Peters says.

She remembers the dramatic effect Ty had on a patient who was losing his leg after a motorcycle accident. “When I had Ty in that room, we could take him off all that pain medicine,” she says.

Even an inconsolable screaming child was quieted and calmed by a pooch that hopped on the gurney. “It’s nice to have a furry body to hug on to. It’s a comforting thing to have a dog,” Peters says. “A lot of the kids who are afraid to be here, it helps them get out of the hospital in their mind.”

A Parkinson’s patient with dementia had broken her hip, and though she was often confused during her stay, she always remembered the dog’s name.

“As soon as she saw that dog she could move, she could talk,” Peters says. “What better reason to have a dog here than that?”

FOUR-LEGGED VISITORS

On a stormy Wednesday morning, Ty and fellow golden retriever Hartney help to bring a little sunshine as they visit rooms with Peters.

First stop is the room of Josue Galeas-Martinez, 8, who is in the hospital with a lung infection. At his bedside are his mother, Mey di Marilin Galeas, and sister, Yolibeth Galeas, 3. As the dogs amble in, smiles erupt on the kids’ faces.

“Doggy,” Yolibeth squeals excitedly as she sidles closer to Ty.

Josue slides out of bed and wraps his arms around Ty’s thick, furry neck, quietly smiling.

“It makes him staying here happier,” his mom says of the dogs’ visit to her son’s room.

After about 10 minutes of playing, petting and giggling, Peters gets the dogs ready to go. Yolibeth stretches her fingers through Ty’s mane and cries out: “No, I want more.”

In the room next door, Jimmy Abitia, 13, is in bed with appendicitis. Ty rests his head on the bed next to Abitia’s hand and is rewarded with a gentle scratch behind the ears. The dogs remind Jimmy of home, where he has two Chihuahuas, a poodle and a Jack Russell terrier.

“It’s pretty nice,” he says. “Calmer than what I thought it would be.” His dad, Ray Abitia, watches with a smile as his son rhythmically runs his hand through Hartney’s strawberry fur.

“We really love animals,” he says. “We adopt them here and there.”

Registered nurse Aaron Lebovitz sees the powerful effect the dogs have on the patients, especially the children.

“It’s extremely helpful,” he says. “The dogs come in and visit and it helps them remember all the fun times. It helps them look to the future.”

Not only do the dogs help get the patients in a better mood, they also motivate them. A doggy visit can spark a change in attitude for patients that makes whatever treatment they need easier to handle.

“They get excited,” he says. “People who are feeling joy feel better, so if you can bring some joy into their lives, that’s a wonderful thing.”