"Where’s Wendel?" asked Ellie as she entered the Adult Day Care Center where I work as a psychiatric nurse. The morning stream of over one hundred patients were arriving for a day of groups and socialization.

"This way, please, Ellie, I said, and directed her out of the main hallway. She was eighty-two years old, walked with a cane and her memory was fading. Lately, she'd had trouble remembering where the restrooms were and the names of other patients that she had known for years.

"There you are, my little angel!" She exclaimed when she saw my therapy dog, Wendel.

Dr. Wendel – his nickname since earning advanced degrees in both elder care and psychology with over five-hundred volunteer hours – and Ellie snuggled like long-lost friends. The joy on Ellie’s face was unmistakable, "I missed you so, my little darling!" Wendel revels in the attention. I noticed that Ellie had mismatched her clothes and was wearing the same blouse from the day before. I made a mental note to call her daughter, Sarah.

"Have you eaten breakfast yet, Ellie?" I asked.

A moment of confusion crossed her face and she replied, "I don’t think so, is there a doughnut left?"

Later, on the phone with Sarah, I found out that Ellie had becoming increasingly disoriented, was forgetting to take her medicine and would wander the house at night. "What am I going to do with her?" asked Sarah. "I have to work to support my family – but she needs someone with her all the time." During the next two months, many phone calls ensued and at the family's insistence, a Social Worker was brought in to assist Sarah with Ellie’s placement.

"I know I’m a burden on my family," Ellie said sadly. "I understand that I’m better off at a nursing home, but I’ll miss Wendel."

I watched as Ellie sat with Wendel – he in his customary spot on my desk, watching as she dabbed the tears. I decided to call Sarah once more, this time to plan a surprise. I discovered that Ellie’s new residence was only five miles from my home. Not only would Wendel welcome Ellie to her new room, he would continue to visit her nearly every Saturday morning, always with a doughnut, for the next year and a half until her quiet passing.