pawsamidstpain

We were at the entrance to the site at 7:00 am. From 5:30 to 6:30 we fed the dogs and gave them a short walk. It was Karen’s decision to feed them oatmeal and a banana. She felt this would be more settling to them than their regular food; we suspected the day would be a long one.

Our Sept 11 started several weeks prior. We called the Horning family to see where they were going to spend the day. We had decided no matter where they would be we, especially Mattie, were going to be there. Once they made their decision our first call was to the Marriott Hotel on West Street, (which was one block from ground zero). “We’ve been waiting for your call,” Barbara said...” No kidding,” I replied. “ I will give you the same room you had last year.” Barbara works in the administrative office of the Marriott Hotel, and without her we wouldn’t be there, as The Marriott doesn’t allow dogs… that is no dogs except Jake Jessie and Mattie. “Don’t forget to come and visit us when you check in,” was her request. A few days later Diane called to tell us we would be on the agenda of the Voices of 9/11 Forum, which would be at the Marriott Hotel on 9/10. Jake, Jessie and Mattie went to the groomers on the 9^th of Sept., with special instructions about where they would be working on 9/11; we wanted them groomed perfectly. We pulled to The Marriott on 9/10 at about 1pm,.It took us about15 to 20 minutes to walk from the truck in front of the hotel to the front desk and another 20 minutes in front of the desk. Many family members were coming into the hotel and, of course, they were stopping to pet the dogs and just chat. Later, on the second floor, we were escorted to a corner where a couch, two chars and a small table stood. On the table was a sign: “The Smile Retrievers. Jake Jessie and Mattie.” (No mention of Mario and Karen.) For the rest of the day dog therapy was at its best, renewing acquaintances from the past. The kids were the most fun. Jake, Jessie and Mattie fit in just right.

While we were putting this together, Diane Horning told us a story of how our dogs had touched another life. We knew that from time to time we affect people without even knowing it. The following is just such an occasion. The story is unedited by us and is in Diane’s own words:

Kathy, who lost her lost her 25 year-old daughter, met me again in Washington DC at the annual meeting of the National Air Disaster Alliance/Foundation (NADA/F). She and her husband were there, having come in from a distant state. Their daughter’s story was so typical of the sad events and coincidences of that terrible day. She was to be married later that September. She had a new house and all her wedding plans in place. She went to her first business meeting on September 11, 2001 at the World Trade Center. The plane slammed into the building when she had been there (early for her meeting) for only a few minutes. Needless to say, these parents were devastated by their daughter's death.

They had had a family dog...actually their daughter’s dog… for many years. The dog never quite recovered from missing their daughter. Their dog lasted another two years, I think, but after she died, Kathy vowed never to get another dog. She kept that vow until September 11, 2004. She and her husband came to New York City for the remembrance ceremony at Ground Zero. There, Kathy saw Jessie. She came over to him and sat right on that rocky, dusty ground with Jessie. Jessie let her snuggle against him, cry into his fur and take all the time she needed. Kathy must have stayed there for 20 minutes, and Jessie never squirmed away. I didn't know about this story until I saw Kathy and her husband at the NADA/F meeting in Washington, DC.

I started talking about Mattie and the boys, like I always do. Kathy looked at me with a smile and a sparkle. She said, "Was the older dog named Jessie?" I said that it was, and she told me about the comfort she had felt from her time with Jessie. She told me that as soon as she and her husband had returned to their home from their trip to New York City, she had insisted that they get another dog. I can't remember the name of their new "comfort." But, I do know that Kathy just loves her. She's not a "golden" by breed; she's a "labra-doddle," but in every other sense of the word, this dog is golden and a comfort, and Kathy owes it all to Jessie, her special therapy dog.

The next day, standing outside of the site waiting for the Horning family was in fact a pleasant experience. Policemen, firemen and family members constantly were walking up to us remembering Jake, Jessie and Mattie. From time to time someone would come up to us and ask, “Is this Mattie? ”Yes this is Mattie,” would be our reply. Many people knew we had named Mattie after Kurt and Diane’s son Matthew D Horning, Our little Mattie was in fact a living memorial. The three dogs were petted; their tails wagged; their paws went up to one person’s hand to another’s. One couldn’t help but notice the buttons on their shirts or a T-shirt with a loved one’s picture, a hat or a silver wristband with a name (I remember the silver wristbands from the Vietnam era. Boy did that bring back memories for me.) I think the hardest part for Karen and me was seeing these faces, red-nosed and glassy-eyed, a tissue or a hanky or a flower in hand. The dogs did a wonderful job. At this point the conversations were light, and people were smiling. We couldn’t help but think that this was going to be an enjoyable dog therapy event. But we were in store for a lesson on interaction between dogs and people we hadn’t anticipated. We would have a hard time keeping our composure as the day went on.

By 8:00 we had linked up with the Horning family and entered the site. It is probably a quarter of a mile walk across the site. Numerous small piles of dirt, rock, fence poles on booth sides, not a lot--just small mole hills, but enough to attract a male dog to leave his markings. We were very conscious of this while entering the site… couldn’t ask for any better area to lift a lag. Little did we know that Jake, Jessie and Mattie were about to give us a lesson on how highly qualified professional therapy dogs act in a situation like this; this was sacred ground where three thousand Americans were killed, where the loved ones of fallen Americans had come to spend a few hours in memory. We are always a little apprehensive about bringing our dogs any place, as we’re always concerned about their behavior. Needless to say that would forever end. When this day was over, we would never be apprehensive about these Golden’s again. Making our way through the crowds of family members in front of the podium caused us to split up, Kurt was way up front with Mattie and I had Jessie and was with Diane, Karen was somewhere behind us with Dana Horning and Jake. On the far side of the podium we all met up again. We met up with some counselors from Project Liberty, and some counselors from the Red Cross. Many counselors seem to be threatened by our dogs as they have the ability to comfort people in stressful situations, and that’s the counselors’ job not the dogs’. Some counselors see our dogs as a tool into people’s thoughts, a way to open the door to what they are feeling, and that’s the way it should be; we are not counselors. At the end of the walkway, we all came together again. A left turn passed the table of flower and the down-ramp leading to the area where the north tower once stood, passing many poles and small piles of dirt-- again a great place for a male dog to make his mark. It was crowded, and there were many people bumping into Jake Jessie and Mattie, but they took it very well just moving along with out any concern. After all, wasn’t a crowd and bumping part of the therapy test? And now the names would be read.

The two mothers stood shoulder to shoulder and slowly read the names on the white paper they held, their voices lingering over each syllable:

Then Josephine Acquaviva and Patricia Allingham came to the names of their sons, and suddenly Ground Zero got personal again in that melancholy way that evokes so much pain over so many senseless deaths. “And my son Paul Acquaviva,” said Josephine, her voice cracking slightly as she pronounced the name of her 29year–old son. “And my son , Christopher Allingham,” said Patricia, her voice also choking as she paused slightly before reading the name. The tragedy of 9/11 started to set in.

For the third anniversary of the 9/11 attacks, organizers asked parents and grandparents to read the names of the 2,749 victims. As with the first and second anniversaries, when dignitaries and victims’ children read the list, this year’s ceremony took on its own soulful intimacy, with parents adding brief epitaphs about sons and daughters who had been murdered when hijacked jetliners struck the World Trade Center’s twin towers. Karen looked at me, and I said, “We can’t get to everybody.” She nodded and replied, “We can only do so much.”

“We will never forget that each person is a son or a daughter,” New York Mayor Michael Bloomberg said before turning over the podium to Josephine Acquaviva and Patricia Allingham for their reading of the first 30 names. For the next 3½ hours, 198 parents and grandparents followed, the somber cadence of their voices broken only by their own muffled sobs. We’re living through 9/11 again, I thought, as the victims’ children petted our goldens. The vision of the towers collapsing kept flashing in our minds. Howard and Leslie Gabler ended their reading of names by adding, “To our beloved son, Fredric Neal Gabler.” Zandra Neblett ended hers with, “To our only son, Rayman Marcus Neblett.” Mary Novotny said of her son, Brian Christopher Novotny, “We love you. You are forever in our hearts.” For Josephine Acquaviva, her final message was simple too. We miss you, Paul”

As the names were read, some parents in the crowd closed their eyes and seemed to pray or just remember. Others held hands with spouses and other children. Still others held aloft photos or homemade placards. From time to time, we saw our goldens getting a very tight squeeze. “Pete, we love you,” said one sign. Another said, “We will never forget.” A firefighter from Rescue 5 walked by with a frame containing the photo of the 11 men in his unit who had perished from Rescue 5 on Staten Island. I can’t go over the Verrazano Bridge without looking where the towers once stood and thinking of Rescue 5--those 11men--looking at those towers burning, not knowing that that was their last day. Others carried other photos – a smiling woman on a beach, a man in a baseball hat, a police officer in his formal uniform. “This year it feels like the first time,” said Elaine DeJesus as she stood by the foundation of the south tower and remembered her sister, Nereida.

By the time the bells rang marking American Airline flight 11 hitting the WTC, the atmosphere had become very quiet. You could hardly hear anyone speak but a whisper. You could hear the sobs although you did not know where they were coming from, nor did you look to see. By this time Jake, Jessie and Mattie were laying down in a horseshoe shape with several children and family members who recognized them and called them by name but who couldn’t remember our names. Nothing could make us feel so good as to see our dogs comfort these people. It seems as though more children were there than had been there last year, and more of them were crying. I have heard bells like this all my life; the sound of these bells will for the rest of my life remind me of 9/11. I have heard them since that time, and it brings a tear to my eyes. I thought, “What a great honor and privilege we have in serving these family members with our therapy dogs.”

By the time the second bells rang, marking the second plane hitting the South Tower, there were many people outright crying, many comforting each other. In the past we had brought our dogs to them; this time they were coming to us. The sobs were louder. You couldn’t help listening to the names being read, and, as all readers finished, they would say the name of their loved ones. I reached in my pack and pulled out the portable water bowl, as it had been almost 3 hours since the dogs had had water. I filled the bowl about half way and put it down. As I was speaking to someone, I noticed the dogs were not drinking, Jake and Jessie looked at it; Mattie didn’t pay any attention to it. I eventually turned back to them and noticed the water was untouched. I emptied the water on the ground and decided to bring them to the side of the site away from everybody, thinking they had to relieve themselves. I got the feeling I was wasting my time; they were not sniffing, and they did not appear to be looking to sniff or lift a leg. They seemed to be interested in heading back to the area where we were working (which was only about 20 feet away.) Did they know this was sacred ground? I brought them back to the area were we had been standing. They went back into the horseshoe shape lying down. Within seconds they had a crowd around them. I was very proud to be with them. Karen and I exchanged thoughts about this and what was happening, but quietly moved away from each other, as every time we talked and hugged we would start to cry. We didn’t want to be emotional. We were there to comfort, but again we were about to learn another lesson. It seemed that this day we were going to learn a lot about our dogs and ourselves that would be with us the rest of our lives.

The third ringing of the bells was the collapse of the south tower There were more people congregating and petting Jake, Jessie and Mattie. At one point there seemed to be people waiting in line. By this time Karen and I dropped the leashes on the ground. We were constantly engaged in conversations with different people keeping one eye on our Goldens. It was obvious to us at this time that the word “golden” meant more than a dog breed. The amazement continued when we again offered them water… again a refusal. The names were being read one by one, and when it came to Matthew Douglas Horning’s name, Karen and I were locked in each other’s arms There was no holding back of the tears. We had become a part of 9/11 from the families’ side. Our therapy work had bought us so close to the Hornings that we felt Matthew was our own. By this time these 3 goldens had Karen and me amazed at their performance. Moving unleashed from person to person, sitting, laying down, giving a paw or rubbing up against them without a command. One would wonder what Karen and I were doing there, as we were not needed. Jake, Jessie and Mattie had total and complete control of the situation, and their control and comforting went on and on until about 5½ hours without water or lifting a leg. I thought that was more than any male dog could bear… so we thought.

The bells again. The World Trade Center’s north tower collapsed from the top down, as if it were peeled apart, releasing a tremendous cloud of debris and smoke (This was the tower Matthew had been in). Handing a treat to Jessie seemed to be greeted with, “No thank you,”--same action with Jake. OK, maybe Mattie will want a treat. “Hey Matt,” I called. He looked at me. I had to walk over to him and hand him the treat. What happened to the gobbling down of a treat? Hmm, maybe I should have bought cheese or a hamburger. The names continued one American after another who had just gone to work one day and never come home. Diane and Kurt always stayed until all the names were read, and so would we. When it was time to leave, we said our good byes. We could leave knowing we were there to comfort them; Kurt and Diane enjoy seeing the boys (as Diane refers to them) comfort other family members.

As we left the site we ran into the president of Voices of 9/11, She asked if we could go up to the Marriott Hotel, as the 9/11 commission was about to speak to the family members. We didn’t realize until we were on the second floor that we were approaching 2:00 p.m. and that our golden boys had not had any water or relieved themselves. What kind of handler would do such a terrible thing to a dog? Karen and I had already made several trips to the bathroom. It was now between 3:30 and 4:00, and another attempt to give them water was rejected. Again their performance on the second floor in the Marriott was without commands and unleashed. “Who are these guys?”

It was now 4:30 and we were on Broadway and Liberty Street. We were sitting on a small curb emptying the second quart of water into our portable drinking dish; water that now they were lapping up. We were sitting in this little store entrance with the first cup of coffee we had had all day; it was really good. No one told the goldens we were finished for the day; no one told them that people weren’t going to mob them any longer; they were just drinking like there was no tomorrow. Karen and I were on our second coffee. Jessie was lying down behind me; Jake was lying down in front of us, and Mattie was sitting next to Karen. People were still coming up to us. These weren’t family members. They were the general public. It seemed as though every person that came up to us had to tell something about 9/11, where they had been or what they had been doing, how they felt (the therapy doesn’t stop). Of course Karen was smiling, telling her story of Mattie and how she met Diane. Mattie always carries a picture of Kurt and Diane’s son, Matthew, around his neck. Mattie is registered with the American Kennel Club as Matthew D. Horning the second. I never interrupt her when she tells the story of Mattie no matter how many times I have heard it. I stand there and listen as though I am hearing it for the first time. Furthermore, a husband never interrupts his wife when she is speaking. A motorcycle group came up to us and listened. You know the type: leather boots, jeans, tattoos, chains, belts. One of the girls looked like she could pick me up and throw me a 100 feet. She told us about one of their buddies who was killed in the tower. Her friend standing next to her, who looked like he could pick her and me up and throw us both 200 feet, took of his glasses to wipe tears from his eyes.” He was my best friend.” He then petted Jake and said’ “ Hey guys, thank you for coming down here. I needed to pet these dogs.“ A few minutes later a woman came up to me asking about the dogs, I explained what we were doing and what therapy dogs do. She then began to tell me she was pilot for Continental Airlines. She was in the air on 9/11. She then started to cry, ”This is the first time I came down here.” She went on, “I have been trying to come here since then. I am so afraid to fly, but seeing these dogs and talking to you has made a difference.” “Isn’t that something,” I thought?

But our day was about to end in such a way we would never forget. We will cherish all of the memories for the rest of our lives, but there will always be one that stands out. We were tired, and it was obvious that people would still come up to us. We had to leave as it was almost 6:00 p.m., and then a little girl came up to Jake and petted him, looked at Mattie, asked his name, and at that moment Jessie got up and went over to her. She now had the attraction of all 5 of us. She wasn’t much taller than Jessie when he sits. She had a flower in her hand; she constantly moved her hand from Jake to Jessie and then to Mattie, as all three were sitting in front of her. A few moments of quiet, she then said, “HERO DOGS. That’s what you are.” Holding out the flower, she said, “Here. I want you to have this flower, but I only have one so you have to share it”. She kissed each one of them and left. We hadn’t said anything to her about their work, and yet she called them “hero dogs.”

We wonder from time to time, when we hear little stories of dogs performing little miracles, were we apart of one of these little miracles? Do our Goldens know more than we do? Were they sent here on a mission? (As Reverend Bill seemed to think) Are we just a tool to bring them to where they are needed? Karen and I just can’t believe that everything we do is of our own creation. What made Karen to say to Diane Horning on October 28, 2001 that our next golden would be named after her son. We had talked about getting another dog but were not really set on it. What made Judy Laureano give us Mattie without charge? How would we have found the Horning family without Janet? What sequence of events took place in our lives that still today can’t be explained? Those of you who believe in the Lord know the answer; those of you who don’t, should read this again or call us as there is so much more.

NOTHING COULD PLEASE US MORE THAN TO BE GIVEN THIS WONDERFUL OPPORTUNITY TO HANDLE THESE 3 DOGS WHO MAY HAVE BEEN PUT HERE TO ACCOMPLISH ONE GOAL

AKC Registration #SN211647/01
Jacobson Baron of Huguenot
Call name: Jake; aka “Gentleman Jake”

AKC Registration #SN909599/01
Matthew D. Horning the Second
Call name: Mattie; when in trouble: “Matthew”

Mario and Karen Canzoneri
128 Hawley Avenue
Staten Island, NY 10312
(718) 984-5781
email: Thesmileretrievers@netzero.com