July-September 2007
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VDOTer in Profile
VDOTer in Profile: 'Therapy Dog'
Eischen and Her Dog Turn Tension
Into Smiles After Tragedies Strike
Comfort and therapy. After a tragedy, they are key antidotes for trauma.
Dawn Eischen and her dog Ginger know that, and they have taken those healing ingredients to victims of Hurricane Katrina and the Virginia Tech shootings, as well as to people in less tragic circumstances.
Eischen, public affairs manager in the Richmond District, and Ginger have walked into crowds of people caught in the aftermath of tragedy, where nerves were stressed or shattered, and later they have departed leaving distressed people with solace and calm.
How? They both have unique training and natural qualities to provide comfort to people in the midst of a trauma.
Richmond District’s Dawn Eischen and
her ‘therapy dog,’ Ginger, bring calm
into chaos.
Ginger is a certified “crisis therapy dog,” a designation she earned after advancing through several levels of training.
First, there was basic obedience school; then certification as a “Canine Good Citizen” by the American Kennel Club; and then rigorous therapy dog training.
“Ginger has the equivalent of a master’s degree in animal-assisted therapy,” explains Eischen.
Eischen’s qualifications begin with a “tremendous affection for animals.” In addition, she has a background in animal welfare and disaster relief.
She worked in public relations for the American Red Cross in Fort Worth, Texas, the Humane Society in Atlanta, Ga., and the state Department of Emergency Management in Richmond before coming to VDOT.
Training to bring calm in the midst of chaos is essential to Ginger’s mission, Eischen explains.
“In a crisis, people react unpredictably. Some scream and flail their arms; others sit and stare blankly. There is noise and confusion. Sirens wail, people shout. Responders hurry back and forth in strange-looking rescue gear. Injured people are wrapped in bandages.”
Therapy dogs, also called “comfort” dogs, must remain un-rattled. Their temperament is critical — more important than their breed — says Eischen.
“A Doberman pinscher that is docile and friendly could be a therapy dog,” she adds.
Ginger, a 10-year-old Whippet-mix, is “very kind and gentle.” Eischen got her in 1999 from an animal shelter in Dallas where she had been taken after she was found on the side of the interstate with her new-born puppies.
Certifying organizations, such as the Delta Society and Therapy Dogs Inc., screen canines to see if they will be calm in nursing homes or hospital settings.
Then, after a year of visitations, the handler can seek membership to become a crisis therapy dog team. Qualified dogs are trained and tested in mock disasters to desensitize them to noise and confusion.
Dog handlers also must be screened and trained before they can join the team. “Some people can’t handle it,” says Eischen. “You need to be able to do what you are being sent to do in a tragedy—provide comfort.”
In Eischen’s case, work experiences, a desire to help people in distress and the ability to remain calm during chaos make her a successful handler.
Eischen and Ginger in Louisianafollowing
Hurricane Katrina.Eischen started taking Ginger to nursing homes and hospitals to bring comfort in 2002. The residents and patients loved her.
“Ginger has a following. People look for her,” Eischen says. They still go twice a month to nursing homes, but in 2004 Eischen met a member of HOPE Animal-Assisted Crisis Response.
Through that organization, Eischen and Ginger traveled to Louisiana during the 2005 Christmas holidays to bring comfort in the aftermath of Hurricane Katrina. She had been earlier to the storm-ravaged state — on loan from VDOT to help with public information needs — but without Ginger.
She remembers one day when she and Ginger and another therapy team went to a crowded family service center in New Orleans.
“People were frazzled, babies were crying. People were waiting in long lines, trying to fill out forms. The tension was so thick. As soon as we walked in, people began smiling and petting the dogs. When we left, the tension was gone and people were laughing and talking.”
Eischen says Ginger is the star. “I feel like the human on the end of the leash. It’s all her. She points me in the direction of people she feels most need help. Sometimes it’s someone sitting in a corner. When she walks up, they instantly have a smile on their face.”
Ginger and Eischen went to Virginia Tech on the weekend after the shooting on Tuesday.
“People at Tech were zombie-like. Emotions were so raw. We were providing comfort on campus to students and their families.”
Not only that, she says the crisis dogs bring comfort to emergency responders. “Often they are far from home and family, with no one to share their feelings. Sometimes they miss their dogs. They say, ‘It makes me feel so much better to hug your dog.’”
Why does Eischen do this? Obviously, she cares. But there’s another reason: “I do it because eventually the victim could be me, and I hope there will be a therapy dog nearby for me to hug.”
