The Nose Knows (20 page)

We stayed just long enough to make a phone call and to pick up the essentials. Then we were off again. As we drove, she outlined the plan.

T
he phone call Mom had made was to Dr. Strauss, the prison doctor. While she was asking him for his help, I used the time to fill the boys in on the plan.

Dr. Strauss agreed to help, and when we arrived at the prison, they were expecting us. An officer escorted us to an interrogation room. Dr. Strauss had obtained permission to lift the rule prohibiting people from bringing an animal into the prison. When we reached the room, Dr. Strauss was waiting.

Mom took a moment to confer with him. He then picked up the phone and said to the person at the other end, “Okay, bring her down.”

We all took our places. Dr. Strauss moved to the adjoining room on the other side of the two-way mirror. He explained to Mom that they wouldn’t be seen but they would be able to see and hear everything. About five minutes later, the door opened and a nurse entered pushing Joyce in a wheelchair. Joyce was staring straight ahead. Her eyes were open but blank. She was oblivious to our presence. Mom moved Joyce’s wheelchair over to the corner where the sun was gently coming in through a barred window. It was a good move. The warmth of a sun puddle could help. Mom touched Joyce’s arm and spoke gently.

“Hi Joyce, it’s Dr. Hannah. I brought someone to see you.”

Mom reached down and picked up the essential she’d brought from home. She placed Sweetie on Joyce’s lap. Sweetie turned around twice and lay down. He turned on his purr motor. Mom winked at me as she quietly left the room to join Dr. Strauss on the other side of the mirror.

“Okay, Sweetie, are you ready?” I asked.

“Mmm-hmm” was the reply. Sweetie never could purr and talk at the same time.

I lay down at Joyce’s feet. Sweetie and I both began to enter the zone. We focused all of our energy on Joyce. I envisioned the safest place I knew— sleeping on Mom’s bed. Sweetie’s purr motor revved up to high. The sound helped to lull me quickly into the zone. Mom had told us we didn’t have to hurry. We could take all the time we needed. She and Dr. Strauss would be patient. We didn’t rush. We stayed in the zone and waited.

I heard Joyce’s breathing quicken slightly. The warmth of Sweetie on her lap and the vibrations of his purring were having a positive effect.

When something soft, pleasant, and warm touches you, endorphins are generated in your brain. It’s a chemical reaction; a physical response, not an emotional one. It just happens. When the reaction occurs, there’s a change in your scent. We smell it. Sweetie and I stayed in the zone and waited. If Joyce didn’t fight us, the effect would penetrate deeper.

Time passed. I can’t tell you how long. One reason humans have trouble staying in the zone is because they’re too conscious of time. Critters aren’t. Sweetie and I focused on the moment, nothing more, nothing less. Joyce hadn’t moved nor uttered a word. A human wouldn’t see any change, but the energy of her life force was definitely expanding. As her energy field began to swell, Sweetie made his next move. He turned around, rose up and put his two front paws on Joyce’s shoulders. Now his face was right in front of hers. Joyce’s eyes were still open. Her eyes didn’t move. She didn’t blink. Her eyes saw nothing. Sweetie focused on her eyes and funneled his energy into a steady stream. All critters are capable of narrowing their focus. We have to when we’re stalking our prey. Sweetie, however, was using an additional tool. He was funneling his energy through his great gift, compassion.

Sweetie didn’t have to work at generating compassion. It was his nature. It was as much a part of him as his tail or his ears. He let his compassion flow freely. It dominated everything else. Never before had I sensed such intensity in him. As the level rose in him, I felt a new surge of energy spread out in my direction. It touched me. It encompassed me. It warmed me. I then focused a new level of energy back onto Joyce.

I began to tire. Maybe it was my age or my old bones on the hard floor, or maybe I’d just been around humans too long, but I let a thought enter my zone.

Would we make any difference?

At that moment a crack occurred in my zone. I lost focus. I could feel the energy draining from me. I struggled to re-enter the zone, but I knew it would take time for me to regroup. I looked up. Sweetie, however, hadn’t missed a step. His focus had intensified as if he’d compensated for my energy ebbing. He was reaching a completely new level. As I felt the heighted level of compassion wash over Joyce, I saw her blink. Then for an instant, her eyes shifted. They flickered across Sweetie’s face.

I felt the surge in Sweetie. He knew what had happened. It helped him stay the course and it gave me such a refreshing that I re-entered the zone in record time. Before Joyce’s subconscious could retreat again, we both increased the wattage of compassion.

Joyce’s hand moved. It stroked Sweetie’s back. Sweetie raised a paw and gently tapped the side of Joyce’s face. I’d seen him do this many times to Mom in play but never with such gentleness. He tapped again. With the second tap, Joyce’s eyes focused on Sweetie’s face.

I now sensed two conflicting energy fields. It was as if Joyce was trapped in a whirlpool. It was pulling her down. Another force had hold of her and was trying to pull her upward. Whichever force was greater would determine the outcome.

Later Sweetie told me he too had sensed the same battle. One side was trying to surface back into life and the other was pulling downward into the darkness. He said that right then he focused on me. Why me? He said he needed a terrier’s mindset. He hung on and refused to let go. He was determined to pull her out of that hole.

Slowly, one degree at a time, Sweetie gained more territory. When Joyce’s second hand rose to stroke Sweetie’s head, we knew we were winning. I looked over at the mirrored glass that concealed Mom. I didn’t have to physically see her to know there was a tear running down her face and she was saying, “Yes! Yes! Yes!”

Maybe she and Dr. Strauss were jumping up and down. There was a great wave of excitement coming through the mirror. Their energy wave blended with Sweetie’s compassion and my determination.

Then Joyce saw Sweetie for the very first time and said, “Oh my, where did you come from?”

Mom and Dr. Strauss cautiously came back into the room. Mom cupped Joyce’s face in her hands and spoke softly. “Joyce, Joyce, thank God you’re back. Do you know who I am?”

“Sure, you’re Doctor Hannah. Why wouldn’t I know who you are?”

Yup, Joyce was back. Dr. Strauss was almost as happy as Mom. He said he’d agreed to help, because he knew the profound effect animals could have on a sick person. He’d witnessed stiff, arthritic arms that seldom moved suddenly reach out to pet a dog. He’d seen anxious people become more settled when animals were laid on their laps. He had seen sad people tell critters their private thoughts, thoughts they’d never voiced to their fellow humans .

But he said he had never ever witnessed anything like this.

“I think that cat actually touched Joyce’s soul.”

Maybe. Maybe not. But there was no denying— Sweetie had helped bring Joyce back to life.

O
ver the next week, we overheard Mom talking to both Dr. Strauss and the psychiatrist, Dr. Hobbs. Both had seen patients emerge from similar catatonic-like states, but never with the help of a cat. It didn’t surprise them that Joyce’s faculties had spontaneously returned. They explained that an extreme traumatic event can cause the brain to shut down, short-circuited by the emotional overload. They even knew of patients who never resurfaced at all, and had worried that Joyce might be one of them. Now, thanks to Sweetie, they were optimistic.

They agreed there was still a long and difficult road ahead for Joyce, but at least now she could participate in her own defense. The antidepressant medication seemed to be helping. For the first time, Joyce showed emotion. She now cried when she retold the events of her life and how she’d killed Hank. She was animated and positive when she talked about her children. She said she wanted to fight to get them back.

Mom called the senior attorney, Tom Mackey. They discussed how much was riding on the next court appearance. She told him she was uncomfortable with a junior associate handling the case. She wanted all the experience possible on Joyce’s side. Tom agreed to take over the case, and Mom was grateful, even though she might owe him a lifetime of free consultations. He said he would try to get a face-to-face meeting with the District Attorney. He wanted to see if he’d reconsider his current position and perhaps agree to a lesser charge.

Jacob came for dinner that evening. After dinner, Tom Mackey called and Mom put the call on the speakerphone so Jacob could also hear how the meeting with the DA had gone.

“Hannah, I’ve got to tell you I’ve met a lot of stubborn DA’s in my time, but this guy wins the prize. He refuses to budge one iota. He kept repeating that Joyce stabbed Hank fifteen times and he wasn’t going to reduce the charges. And listen to this—know why he won’t reduce the charges? He said he has to think about the next man whose wife feels like stabbing him just because he yells at her for his dinner being cold.”

“Good lord, Tom, is this man stupid or what?”

“Who knows, maybe he’s afraid
his
wife will stab him! Wouldn’t surprise me at all; he’s one arrogant SOB.”

“Well, he certainly isn’t the sharpest tack in the box.”

“That’s for sure. But, Hannah, the fact that he sees no difference between a woman shooting her husband over a plate of cold lasagna and the fact that Hank had a gun in Joyce’s face makes it impossible to negotiate with him. He says he’ll ask for the maximum. In three days we have to be back in court. He may be a nut, but we have to be ready for him.”

“What if I come over to your office tomorrow morning and we’ll discuss what we need to do.”

“I’ve got a client I have to see at nine a.m. so how about ten-thirty?”

“I’ll be there. And Tom, thanks for trying with the DA.”

“Sure thing. See you in the morning, Hannah.”

When Mom hung up the phone, she started pacing and babbling. Jacob sat on the couch. I sat on his lap. We watched her go back and forth. Apparently, Jacob was smart enough to know that trying to hug Mom at this point was useless. She wasn’t about to be restrained, even lovingly. So we let her walk and talk.

Finally, she plopped herself down on the couch right next to us. She leaned her head against Jacob and said, “Thanks for listening.”

He laughed. “Like I had a choice.”

Mom leaned over and kissed him on the cheek. “Yeah, you had a choice and you chose correctly. Thanks.”

Jacob shifted and tried to put his arm around Mom. This was a mistake. She was up and headed to the kitchen before his arm even touched the sofa.

“Come on Jacob, you can keep me company while I do the dishes.”

Jacob looked confused. He had yet to learn that just because Mom had kissed him didn’t mean she wanted to be cuddled. She was upset and edgy. Touchy-feely wasn’t going to happen. I gave him an encouraging lick to his nose and then we both headed to the kitchen.

Mom spent the next three days with Joyce. She cancelled all her appointments and focused on getting Joyce emotionally ready for court. They were long days.

The evening before they were due in court, Mom brought Sweetie and me back to the prison hospital ward. Joyce had asked to see us and Dr. Strauss let us break the rules again.

When we entered the room, Mom opened Sweetie’s crate. He made a beeline straight for Joyce. He jumped onto the table, walked over to where she sat, plunked himself down, cocked his head, and gazed into her face. He studied her eyes. His tail flicked side to side. He meowed softly twice.

Joyce smiled. “I’m fine, Sweetie. I’m so much better now, thanks to you two. I just wanted to say thank you. See, if things don’t go well in court tomorrow I’ll be heading to jail to wait for my trial. That could take months and months. And I won’t get to stay on the hospital ward this time. My lawyer says I’ll be put in with the general population. The rules there aren’t so easy to get around. So I wanted to take this opportunity to see you two one more time. I wanted to thank you for helping me . . .”