“Crying is okay for adults and children，” I began， “especially when something like this happens.” Still seeing the pain on their faces， I continued to tell them that it was okay to be scared， that fear is a natural response. For a while， we talked about how we would miss LeMar. It was at this point that I realized what Holly was doing.
She was working her way around the room， going from child to child—and the teacher—putting her front paws on their laps and stretching up to lick the tears from their faces. Unconsciously， the children hugged her back， running their fingers through her fur with such intensity that she would have gone bald if they’d done it all day. She called no significant attention to herself， but quietly expressed love and consolation. She diligently kept up her silent comfort throughout that long， difficult day.
As I slid into the front seat of my car that afternoon， I leaned back， exhausted from the emotional trauma. I just wanted to be home. Glancing briefly into the backseat， I was surprised to see that Holly had already fallen asleep. She was just as drained as I was， if not more so， and， not for the first time， I felt a pang of guilt. Was a fair to ask my dog to take on the emotional responsibilities of troubled children？Shouldn’t she be allowed to stay home and enjoy the carefree life of a house pet？
Those doubts may be why， even now， I occasionally stop in my rush to leave for school in the morning and，instead of ordering Holly into the car， look at her， asking， “Do you want to go to school today？” When she leaps up eagerly， all wags and excitement， I figure she’s answered that burning question for all of us. Yes， Holly is working today.
對我和霍莉來說，一切源於一隻被遺棄的貓。嚴寒中，它被遺棄在校舍樓前台階上，凍得身子縮成一團。這所小學是為心理不正常的兒童開設的，我每周在那裏提供三天的心理治療。