COURTESY OF CHRISTINE MCNULTY Velvet, a 10-year-old Labrador retriever, spreads some holiday cheer last December at the New Jersey State Home for Veterans in Menlo Park, just one month after cancer surgery to remove her hind leg. She was inducted into the New Jersey Animal Hall of Fame on Sunday. ‘Velvet’ still doing good deeds, despite loss of leg to cancer last November
BY PATRICIA A. MILLER
Staff Writer
The young woman sobbed uncontrollably during Woodbridge Township’s Sept. 11 memorial ceremony at the Sewaren waterfront last year, where there once was a clear view of the World Trade Center. No one was able to comfort her.
No one could, until a black Labrador retriever named Velvet padded over to her and sat down quietly next to her.
“This girl sat there and talked to Velvet for over an hour,” said Kathy Braza, Velvet’s owner. “She just poured out her heart. I think we all went away feeling pretty much better after that.”
The 10-year-old dog, rescued from a kill shelter when she was just a year old, has been a source of solace to many over the years.
A certified therapy dog, Velvet makes regular visits to the New Jersey Home for Veterans in Menlo Park and other nursing homes. She was on the scene at Pier 94 on Sept. 11, along with other therapy dogs, to serve as a comforting presence for those traumatized by that terrible day.
Velvet was inducted in the New Jersey Animal Hall of Fame on Sunday for her good works, one of a select few of many animals who were nominated by veterinarians throughout the state.
Braza and her family were thrilled with the award. But their joy is tinged with sadness.
“We know we are not going to have her long,” Braza said. “Every day is a blessing. It’s a tribute to her. She’s spent 5 1/2 years comforting other people. To have her recognized is a thrill.”
The trouble began last fall. The Brazas had just returned from a vacation in Maine, where Velvet had romped through the October woods. Kathy looked out her window several days later and saw her dog standing in the back yard, holding her hind leg up.
The news from the veterinarian wasn’t good. Velvet had osteosarcoma, an aggressive form of bone cancer.
“There weren’t too many options,” Braza said. “We could either leave it alone and let it break or amputate. I could see this cancer was just eating away the bones. It was a hard decision, but there really was no choice. They offered us chemotherapy and radiation, but given her age, I just opted against it.”
The surgery was done in November. The Brazas were told to take Velvet home and enjoy her. The first few weeks were difficult. Velvet had to learn how to walk all over again.
“After the amputation and the stitches were removed, she was quite content to sit in the corner of the room,” Braza said. “I told her, ‘You are not going to just fade away. You’re going back to doing what you love to do.’”
With luck, Velvet could have “months to years,” said Gene Fink, her veterinarian at the Woodbridge Medical Group. Fink nominated Velvet for the Hall of Fame.
“It all depends,” he said. “Some dogs with just amputation, if you can catch it [cancer] before it spreads, you can do very well. She’s always been a dog that’s extremely easy to work with. Anything you do with her, she’s always happy. She’s a typical ‘I love everybody’ black Lab.”
Velvet began her journey back by taking very small steps, first down the family porch, then to the street, then halfway down the block. By then, Kathy Braza knew her dog was ready to go back.
“We’re really proud of her,” she said. “Just the fact that she was able to go back to what she was doing, it’s absolutely amazing.”
And the veterans at the home are glad she is back, said Christine McNulty, the facility’s recreation supervisor.
“She’s such a sweet little dog,” McNulty said. “It is very touching for the residents to see she is continuing on. A lot of them have lost limbs themselves. It almost makes more of a connection between her and the residents. She’s part of the family. When they didn’t see her for a while, they were all asking ‘Where’s Velvet?’ They miss her when she’s not here.”
Mike Kohut, a retired Army warrant officer, has been at the home for eight years. He often takes pictures of the therapy dogs and was upset when he learned Velvet was ailing.
“Oh my God,” Kohut said. “I couldn’t believe it. I felt terrible. That dog loves what she’s doing That is a beautiful dog.”
Velvet’s illness could be a “blessing in disguise,” Fink said.
“The people at the veterans home are relating to the dog better than ever,” he said. “The dog is now an amputee among amputees. It shows how it doesn’t affect the dog. She gets around extremely well. That’s a motivating factor for some people who are there.”
Many of the veterans remember their own dogs when the therapy dogs pay a visit, Braza said.
“Some might call the dogs by their own dog’s name,” she said. “It starts a conversation. Lots of times they don’t react, but they’ll reach out a hand to pet the dog.”
One of her most poignant memories came from a veteran who was “lost in Alzheimer’s,” Braza said.
“He didn’t know what day it was,” she said. “But when he would see Velvet, he would light up and call her ‘Daisy.’ One day he just started singing ‘Bicycle built for two.’ He belted out the very last line. This brought something back to him.”
If all goes well, Velvet’s next assignment will start in April. The Woodbridge library system invited her to sit in on reading programs for children.
“She goes in and lies down on the floor and the little kids read books to her,” Braza said. “It promotes reading with children. It gets them to read.”
For now, Velvet gets more than her share of spoiling. She gets pizza crusts on a regular basis.
“None of my dogs has ever been allowed pizza crusts,” she said. “We give her gravy on her food. Her appetite is fantastic. Her coat is beautiful. And with all the testing they did, there was nothing that showed up on her lungs. Her blood work is normal.”
Then there’s the new collar Braza bought for her.
“She’s already got the most expensive collar I’ve ever bought in my life,” she laughed. “It’s black with gold. But it’s not gaudy.”
Most Labrador retrievers live between 10 to 12 years. Velvet and Kathy will keep on going as long as she is able.
“She’s doing well right now, other than missing the leg,” Braza said. “She’s not on any medication. She’s quite happy. She’s thrilled to see people.”
Velvet and the Brazas have come a long way since the day they first met.
“It’s a funny road we went down,” she said. “When I got her, she was basically a throwaway dog. She could have been lost to the kill shelter. We just bonded from the start. She astounds us with her will to live.”