Story, an enormous St. Bernard, lies down on Dennis Ashworth’s feet, as the 90-year old relaxes in his easy chair in his apartment in Amherst. The dog is panting hard, his long pink tongue hanging below his jaw.

“He is going to drool on you and leave a little hair on you, but there is nothing like a little dog fur to cheer you up,” says Kettie Lawrence, who with her sons, Levi, 10, and Milo, 7 own Story.

Without saying a word, Ashworth smiles as he rubs the 160-pound dog’s belly.

“How have you been Dennis? Lawrence asks. “Have you been doing your exercises?” 

The boys are by the window playing with a stuffed koala Ashworth keeps for them. The Lawrences visit every Thursday after the boys, second- and fourth-graders at Wildwood Elementary in Amherst, get out of school. They come to see Ashworth, who is a widower, and as many others in the 80-resident Arbors Assisted Living complex as they can. They’ve been doing it for two years now, trying to bring a little cheer into the lives of people who might be lonely.

A single mother, Kettie Lawrence, who grew up in foster homes, doesn’t have any close relatives in the area. She sees the visits as a benefit for her kids, too, allowing them to have extended family.

“To my kids all of these elderly people are the closest thing they have to grandparents,” she says.

Pretzels and soup

After a brief visit the Lawrences say their goodbyes to Ashworth and are back out in the hallway headed for the next apartment.

Sue Lichtenstein, 93, always has pretzels — one of the boys’ favorite snacks, in her cupboard.

When the family arrives on this day, Lichtenstein is leaning back in her Lazy Boy chair, her reading glasses resting in her hair.

“Come here, Story, you are such a darling,” she pats her lap and the dog licks her hand.

Just as Lichtenstein knows what the kids like, they know she loves soup and sometimes brings her some. On the last visit they brought her cream of tomato. Another time it was minestrone. 

Sometimes Levi and Milo will bring their own games to play with the residents. In return, some of them give the boys chocolate.

“Sometimes I wonder what it would be like to have grandparents and when I go (to the Arbors) I get a glimpse of what it would be like,” Levi says.

“It feels good to care about people.”

Story struts down the hallways like he owns the place, his white fluffy tail brushes against the walls. Some people wait outside their doors for the family, or have their doors propped open, anticipating kisses from the St. Bernard’s wet snout.

“He gives people joy in the last days of their lives with no expectation of anything back,” Kettie Lawrence says.

But, she adds, her dog enjoys it, too. “He seems to know it’s Thursday; he gets up and grabs his leash, he pulls us to the door every week when we go.”

Once at The Arbors, Story seems to know exactly how to behave. As he goes from apartment to apartment with the Lawrences, he never barks, and is always happy to get a belly rub from his friends.

“He is very in tuned with what they need,” Lawrence says. “He is very careful around their bodies. ... He is kind of amazing.”

A way to repay

The Lawrences started coming to The Arbors about two years ago at the suggestion of Lawrence’s friend, who was the facility’s nursing director at the time. Remembering the loneliness she sometimes felt as a child, Lawrence thought the visits would be a great learning experience for her boys. She also saw the visits as a way to show gratitude for kindnesses she experienced from strangers when she was without a family of her own. “There were people who even in the most hard and darkest times were there for me and I made this promise to myself that I would give that back to whoever needed it.”

Lawrence also sees the visits as a way to provide male role models for her sons, who don’t have a father in their lives. They were both conceived via a sperm donor. 

On this day, resident Dave Ferro, 70, chats with the kids about basketball while Levi jumps around and pretends to shoot hoops.

He invites Levi to come back sometime to watch a game on his big screen TV and Lawrence suggests that Levi practice his basketball skills outdoors next time.

“My kids don’t have any male figures in their life outside of here,” she says, “so that has been a big piece.”

Two-way street

The black felt activity board in the lobby announces the Lawrences presence each week, “Visit with Story and the boys,” is written in white stick-on letters.

“Story and the boys have had a huge impact on the lives of many of our residents,” says Judi Jackson, the activities director. “The opportunity to spend time with both children, and pets is extremely therapeutic.”

Levi and Milo have grown to love many of the people they visit every week, says Lawrence, and many, like Carol Mis, a women in her 80s, love them back.

Mis cups their faces in her hands before planting kisses on each of their cheeks at the end of her visit on this Thursday. She thumbs away a splotch of lipstick from Milo’s face before they go.

“I love you,” she says, his head still resting in her hand.

Later, Levi says he plans to continue the tradition of visiting people in assisted living facilities when he has children.

“When I am grown up I will teach my kids to be kind, too,” he says. “I’m only 10, but I can be friends with 90-year-olds.” 

Lisa Spear can be reached at lspear@gazettenet.com.

 

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