Photos by Matt Gentry | The Roanoke Times

Linda Kelly, a patient at Three Pines Center in Christiansburg, pets Dottie, 18, the center's therapy dog. Tracy Roberts, Dottie's owner and co-owner of the center, brings Dottie to Three Pines several days a week so she can visit with patients.

"Dot is probably one of the smartest dogs I've ever worked with. She's got such a complex personality. She has this neediness and yet, at the same time, she can be very strong and stoic." - Tracy Roberts Dottie's owner

Dottie, as well as the other Aussies, has grown up working cattle and horses. But like her late mother, Lucy, Dottie has another special skill: She's a trained therapy dog.

CHRISTIANSBURG -- We could learn a lot from an old cow dog like Dottie.

At 18, she's virtually a Methuselah of the Aussie world.

But the old girl with the silky cinnamon coat and soulful amber eyes knows what's truly important in life -- which explains why she never passes up the opportunity to take a nap, savor a treat, give a nuzzle or calmly put a rebellious bovine back in its place.

Most of all, Dottie never misses a chance to help someone who's hurting.

"There are some people she's just drawn to," said Dr. John White, a pulmonologist whose practice is in Christiansburg and the man in Dottie's life. "It's like she knows who needs her."

When White fell in love with Dottie's owner, Tracy Roberts, back in 2002, he had no choice but to fall in love with Dottie, too.

Roberts, a Blacksburg native who came back to the area after living in several other states, cherishes animals so much she even earned a doctorate from Purdue with a dissertation based on the impact animals have on humans.

Roberts and White now have four Australian shepherds, including Dottie, on their Craig County horse farm. A cutting horse enthusiast, Roberts has bred, shown and sold the working horses for 16 years. She has horses in both Virginia and Texas. When she's not working on the farm, she handles administrative duties at White's practice. Not only are White and Roberts a couple, but they're also in business together.

Dottie, as well as the other Aussies, has grown up working cattle and horses. But like her late mother, Lucy, Dottie has another special skill: She's a trained therapy dog.

"Lucy lived to be 21," Roberts said. "As a team, they were so good."

Unlike service dogs, therapy dogs are not trained to assist patients by performing physical tasks for them. The job of a therapy dog is simply to motivate patients. A patient who has withdrawn from human interaction, for instance, can often relate to a well-behaved therapy dog and may then open up to others.

Roberts has used her therapy dogs to help children with reading and speaking problems. Unlike some adults, the dogs listen quietly and without judgment as children read to them. Consequently, the children often become more confident and comfortable with their own skills.

When Roberts was teaching at an elementary school in Texas, she used Lucy and Dottie in the classroom as a therapeutic tool for children.

"One of my students remarked that Lucy was the rock and Dot was the sponge -- because she absorbs everything," Roberts said. "Dot is probably one of the smartest dogs I've ever worked with. She's got such a complex personality. She has this neediness and yet, at the same time, she can be very strong and stoic."

Strength and stoicism served Dottie well when she was called upon to respond to tragedy last year. After the Virginia Tech shootings, White needed to offer comfort to the injured students at Montgomery Regional Hospital and to their overwhelmed caretakers.

"Everyone was so stressed at that time," White recalled. "We had all these people -- the media circus was everywhere."

With wounded students in pain and shock, anguished parents, harried doctors and nurses, White was sure Dottie could help.

"I snuck her in the back door," he said.

Intensive care

As the ICU director at Montgomery Regional Hospital, Dr. M.J. Bean was fully aware that animals weren't allowed inside the antiseptic institution. But when White asked her about bringing Dottie to visit the wounded following the chaos of April 16, she didn't flinch.

"I said, 'Absolutely. Go for it!' " Bean recalled. "There was never any question.

"Anything we could do to make the students feel at home," she added. "It just seemed like the right thing to do."

When White tiptoed Dottie into the hospital after hours, he wasn't worried about the dog's response to an unfamiliar situation.

"I knew Dot would be OK," he said. "My only thing was, 'Am I going to get busted by security?' "

Dottie just lit up when the nurses saw her, White said. Her normally jaunty gait turned into a prance.

As he made the rounds in the intensive care unit, he discovered that some of the shooting victims weren't up to meeting Dottie. One was sedated; another was dealing with anger.

A third -- tired and in pain -- nevertheless wanted to see Dottie.

The Aussie worked her way up to the student's bed and gently placed her head under the young woman's hand.

After a short visit, White said he and Dottie moved on to the progressive care unit. It was there that Dottie met Allison Cook, the Virginia Tech sophomore who suffered three gunshot wounds and a collapsed lung.

But the athletic Cook had survived the attack in 211 Norris Hall that claimed the life of her French professor, Jocelyn Couture-Nowak, and 11 students.

Dottie must have sensed her emotional anguish.

White patted the hospital bed and the dog leaped up, landing effortlessly next to Cook without disturbing the tubes and monitor wires attached to her fragile body.

"We were surprised when she jumped on the bed," said Lynn Cook, Allison's mother. "She was very gentle."

Lynn Cook started snapping cellphone photos of her daughter and Dottie. She still has the images, and when she looks at them, she's reminded of an uplifting moment in what was a tense and terrible time.

"That was our first evening out of the ICU unit," she said. "We do remember Dottie. We don't remember the doctor's name, though."

For White, that's OK.

As a doctor but not a surgeon, he felt unable to help trauma patients with gunshot wounds. But Dot, he said, eased his feeling of helplessness.

"She provided a way for me to give."

Certified and qualified

A few years ago, White and Roberts renovated an old 1950s house on Radford Street. Called the Three Pines Center, it's where Dottie holds down a part-time job.

In addition to the pulmonary medicine practice, White and Roberts plan to use the center to offer a variety of health services, including acupuncture, counseling therapy, massage therapy and yoga. They've dreamed of having a health and wellness coach on site, as well as an herbal garden where patients can learn about the therapeutic properties of gardening.

Of course, Dottie will continue to provide the pet therapy as long as she's able. Roberts brings Dottie to the Three Pines Center several days a week so she can visit with patients. When the dog tires of being petted and fussed over, she sneaks off for a snooze under Roberts' desk.

Although there's a sign on the door of the center notifying patients that Dottie is there -- "Please let our staff know if you do not want an interaction with the dog" -- most patients are delighted at Dottie's presence.

"She's such a friendly dog," said Linda Kelly, 55. "She greets everybody. I've never been here when she wasn't here."

Kelly, who drives from Lindside, W.Va., to see White, has severe asthma. But as she stroked Dottie on a recent visit, her breathing was even and relaxed.

"She's pretty. She's so soft," Kelly said as Dottie reposed under her touch.

Eddie Roberts, a 55-year-old patient diagnosed with blood clots in his lungs, was impressed during his first visit to White's office. He liked the jeans-clad doctor, but it was Dottie who really impressed him.

"I ain't too much on cats, but I love dogs," Roberts said. "A dog is man's best friend."

"She's a good doggie," Roberts cooed, his voice changing pitch as he beckoned Dottie. "Come here, Dot. Yes, she's a gooood dog."

White, who's been practicing medicine since 1986, has never forgotten the most important lesson he learned in medical school.

"I was taught that if you just listen to a person, they'll tell you what's wrong with them," he said. "The familiarity of having a dog walking around puts people at ease. They're more likely to tell me what's going on."

"The great irony of it," Tracy Roberts added, "is that animals are the best listeners. Of all our dogs, Dottie is more hypersensitive to body language, smells, signals. She picks up things that we aren't capable of seeing."

Trained through a program developed by the Delta Society, a 30-year-old organization founded by a physician and a veterinarian, Dottie's discipline differs from that of a service dog.

"Delta dogs are trained not to react to wheelchairs, crutches or walkers. She's also trained not to react in emotional situations. If someone becomes aggressive towards John, she's not going to be aggressive towards them," Roberts said.

Such restraint is what made Dottie effective with the Virginia Tech shooting victims, she said.

"You can imagine the emotion she picked up," Roberts said. "The emotion, the tears the tension. She didn't react."

For Dottie, reacting isn't part of her job description.

Her role is to relate.

If that means uncovering the fears and anxieties buried within, she digs until she finds them.

"What I do is all about caring," White said. "Some of the people I care for, there's nothing I can do for them. They're in the end stages. I want people to remain connected to life. I think we're disconnected when we're ill."

Dottie, he said, provides that vital connection.

All she asks in return is an uninterrupted nap.