by Jim Kenyon (Valley News)
With her husband undergoing chemotherapy at Dartmouth-Hitchcock Medical Center for an acute form of leukemia, Sharon Muller had not been home in nearly two weeks. She had spent every night at the hospital, sleeping on a cot in Bill's room until his condition worsened and he was moved into the intensive care unit.
When his condition stabilized after 24 hours, nurses urged Sharon to take a break. Maybe, they were right, she thought, even though it was a 115-mile drive from Lebanon to the couple's home in Kensington, N.H., a small town near Exeter. Besides, she could use fresh clothes.
Another matter at home needed her attention, too. Their names were Whipple and Biscuit. The pair of English Springer Spaniels - a brother and sister - had been with Sharon and Bill since they were pups seven years ago. In 29 years of marriage, Sharon and Bill never had children, so the two dogs were their constant companions.
When Bill, 74, was admitted to DHMC in late October, Sharon had to leave the dogs at a kennel close to home. After a week, she thought about trying to raise Bill's spirits by bringing the dogs to Lebanon for a day. With his room on the first floor, she could lead them up to the window. At least Bill could catch a glimpse of them.
But then Bill, a retired engineer, was moved to intensive care, so she never got the chance. On the evening she returned to Kensington to pick up more clothes, Sharon retrieved the dogs from the kennel. The next morning, she loaded Whipple and Biscuit into her SUV. With no family close by to lean on, she could use the company on the long drive to Lebanon. She told the kennel she would be back that evening.
After arriving at DHMC, she left the dogs in the car. She checked on them every couple of hours, taking them for short walks. On a brisk November day, being outdoors with the dogs was a welcome relief from the intensive care unit's waiting room.
With darkness settling in, she was getting ready to drive home and return the dogs to the kennel when the doctors approached. Bill was slipping away. Going home for the night wouldn't be a good idea, they advised.
But what was she going to do with her two dogs in the car at 5 p.m. on a Friday in November?
She called her veterinarian to ask if they would be OK in the car overnight. With the temperature expected to dip into the teens, he didn't recommend it. "I couldn't leave the dogs in the car, and I certainly couldn't leave the hospital," Sharon said. "I was torn, but I had to do something."
She began searching the Yellow Pages for an Upper Valley kennel. Four phone calls turned up nothing. Someone at the hospital suggested she try Woodcrest Kennel in Orford.
Laura Wilmot, a 33-year-old veterinary technician who had worked at Woodcrest for only a few months, was filling water bowls when the phone rang shortly before 7 p.m. It had already been a long day. The kennel's owners, Jay and Colleen Atwood, were on vacation in Florida and Wilmot had been at the kennel since 10 a.m. She was due back at 8 the next morning.
But the instant she heard Sharon's shaken voice on the phone, Wilmot knew her work day wasn't over. She would keep the kennel open until Sharon got there. Before hanging up, Wilmot gave Sharon directions to Orford. Located on a dirt road off Route 10, Woodcrest isn't an easy place to find, particularly after dark by someone unfamiliar with the area. The 40-mile round trip would probably take Sharon more than an hour.
It made Sharon think: Could she leave her husband for that long?
She asked if Wilmot knew of another kennel closer to the hospital. I'll call you back, Wilmot said. Wilmot then dialed the Atwood's number in Florida. Yes, Jay agreed, it was absolutely the right thing to do. Next, Wilmot called her husband at home in Bradford. He agreed, too.
Wilmot called Sharon again at the hospital. "My husband and I will be right there to pick up the dogs."
For a moment, Sharon was silent. "Are you sure?"
"It's not a problem."
Finding the intensive care unit's waiting room wasn't difficult for Laura. She spent time there a few years ago while her mother recovered from a heart attack. "I knew what Mrs. Muller was going through," she said. "When you're not sure the person you love is going to live or die, you don't want to leave."
Sharon wanted to pay the Wilmots for picking up the dogs. "There's no charge," Laura said.
On Sunday evening, Bill Muller died at DHMC with his wife at his side. On Monday morning, Sharon drove to Orford for the first time, bereaved, but enriched by the kindness of strangers.
Jim Kenyon can be reached at This e-mail address is being protected from spambots. You need JavaScript enabled to view it
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This article was written by Jim Kenyon for the Valley News (Lebanon, NH) on Sunday February 22, 2004.
