Meet Abe, Winchester’s police therapy dog

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Estimated time to read:

4–6 minutes

What is a “ther­a­py dog?”

A spe­cial­ly trained ther­a­py dog pro­vides com­fort, affec­tion, and sup­port to peo­ple in var­i­ous set­tings, such as hos­pi­tals, schools, nurs­ing homes, and dis­as­ter areas. Unlike ser­vice dogs, which are trained to assist indi­vid­u­als with spe­cif­ic dis­abil­i­ties, ther­a­py dogs inter­act with a wide range of peo­ple to improve their emo­tion­al and men­tal well-being.

I recent­ly got to meet a ther­a­py dog named Abe, a gen­tle and obe­di­ent six-year-old gold­en doo­dle with a tail that nev­er seems to cease wag­ging. The meet­ing was set up by JP Martin, own­er of the pho­tog­ra­phy stu­dio Whiskey and Wiles on South Main. We met at the stu­dio. JP took pho­tos while I con­duct­ed the interview.

Abe was accom­pa­nied by his han­dler, Captain Steve Charles of the Winchester Police Department. I asked Capt. Charles how the police depart­ment came to pos­sess a ther­a­py dog.

“Abe was pur­chased in part­ner­ship with the [Clark County] school board,” he told me. “The school board paid the upfront fee for him, and we pay for all the upkeep, along with some dona­tions. It’s a com­mu­ni­ty partnership.”

Capt. Charles told me he is not only Abe’s han­dler, but the dog also lives with him.

“He’s part of my fam­i­ly. My kids love on him and wres­tle with him and everything.”

At the police sta­tion, dis­patch­ers assist in Abe’s care and ben­e­fit from his skills.

“He’ll stay inside with dis­patch because tak­ing calls all day long caus­es them a lot of stress that some­times doesn’t decom­press very well. So he just hangs out­side dis­patch. He’ll lit­er­al­ly [lie] under­neath their feet. They play with him, they walk him, what­ev­er. And while he’s doing that, they obvi­ous­ly love on him, they take him for walks, get some time out of the room, stuff like that.”

But like his friend and han­dler, Abe doesn’t always hang around the police sta­tion. Their favorite and pri­ma­ry activ­i­ty is vis­it­ing schools. The orig­i­nal plan was to try to get to two schools a week.

“Unfortunately, we’ve had a lot of loss in our school sys­tem in the past two years,” Capt. Charles says. “And I’ve tak­en him every time we’ve had a loss like that. Maybe a child passed away in the school sys­tem, things like that, and we go there and just let [the kids] love on him.”

In addi­tion to emo­tion­al sup­port, the stu­dents ben­e­fit from the pres­ence of Abe and Captain Charles in oth­er ways.

“I’ll walk the halls with him. It’s a good link for the kids to see a police offi­cer in per­son, but also with some­thing that kind of helps bridge that gap. I know for a fact there are kids there that would nev­er approach me. But they come up to talk to me because of Abe. So there’s a pos­i­tive expe­ri­ence there, and maybe they’ve nev­er had that with a police offi­cer. It allows them to have an inter­ac­tion that they oth­er­wise would nev­er have had. He’s an extreme­ly use­ful tool for all that.”

I asked if these inter­ac­tions with stu­dents help break down bar­ri­ers between police and the public.

“Absolutely. I tell [the stu­dents] that call­ing us doesn’t mean some­body has to go to jail. We’re there to fix a prob­lem. Sometimes jail is the solu­tion, but not always — we try to find the best solu­tion for the prob­lem. This allows the kids to see that side of us and lets me have con­ver­sa­tions with them that they oth­er­wise wouldn’t have.”

Sadly, our casu­al chat then took an unfor­tu­nate turn.

“Just recent­ly, we got some real­ly grave news,” Captain Charles began. “Abe was start­ing to act abnor­mal, kind of unusu­al for him. I took him to the vet. And they found a mass on top of his kid­ney and colon area. They sent me to a spe­cial­ist who con­firmed that Abe has a very aggres­sive ter­mi­nal cancer.

“That was about a month ago. We’re at the point now where we’re not going to schools because he’s, as you can see, when he walks around, he’s very slow. His breath­ing is labored, but he’s still get­ting around and doing much bet­ter. We didn’t expect him to make it this long. So we’re just kind of count­ing every day as a bless­ing, hang­ing out with him, and lov­ing on him as much as we can.”

I could see the labored breath­ing as Abe stood qui­et­ly while we spoke, but he nev­er winced or whined, and his tail wagged near­ly con­stant­ly. Later, he demon­strat­ed his obe­di­ence skills, doing the stan­dard things: sit­ting, lying, shak­ing hands — he even does a great “high five.”

The captain’s voice quiv­ered a bit as we wrapped up the conversation.

“The com­mu­ni­ties love Abe, the school sys­tem, of course, loves Abe . . . [pause] and it’s very sad, but it’s. . . he’s made a big impact in the time he’s been here. I can guar­an­tee that.”

I can vouch for that. Abe is a very good boy.

Photo Gallery

Click on a pho­to to enlarge.

Late edit: We received word on Monday that Abe passed away and was laid to rest just two days after this inter­view. While I am great­ly sad­dened, I am grate­ful to Capt. Charles and JP Martin for allow­ing me the oppor­tu­ni­ty to meet Abe and write about him for the community. 

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