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A recovery lodge that is truly holistic and patient-centred

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Love, loss and a lodge full of canines.

Jun 9, 2026

I have a very difficult relationship with my boss. He is old and grumpy, and if we are honest, he is the epitome of someone suffering from short-man syndrome. I’m not sure how someone with so few talents, absolutely no people skills, bad breath and terribly average physical appeal can have an ego that is so totally out of sync with what he offers the universe. And yet, somehow, he bulldozes his way through the world, utterly convinced he is making it a better place.

Here I am, willing to take him for walks, buying his favourite food, crocheting him blankets and indulging his every whim and fancy, all the while, sacrificing my own comfort so he can live his best life.

Yes, I admit it: I report to a spoiled dachshund-cross-jack-russell and have been doing so for fourteen years.

As a committed cat-person, I never thought that dogs would start playing a role in my life. Without any permission or input from me however, my life and that of the lodges have suddenly morphed into a soap opera of dogs, mutts and pedigrees.

I’ve introduced you to Jack, the ego-maniac short dog, who accompanies me to work when he feels like it. (He often gets tempted to laze in a warm spot looking important and totally inconvenienced while the rest of us work, and then when he decides to join the rest of the team at the lodge, acts as if we purposefully prevented him from performing life-saving tasks). Frootloop on the other hand, never misses a chance to join me in the early morning hours to go to work. Frootloop, as her name suggests, is a bit loopy and a total fruitcake. Unlike Jack, who has no linage and is a mongrel at best, she is a pedigree miniature schnauzer, with papers tracing her back to Saluki dogs of ancient Egypt (this might be fake news). Each morning Frootloop does a few inspection laps around the Hospitality lodge and then remains by my side until I leave to come to Recovery lodge.
This works out well, as once Frootloop (and on occasion Jack) leave the premises, Dr Jodi might arrive with her hyena. (Jodi is under the impression that Bayleigh is a dog, but I have not yet seen any proof of this). Jodi had the most beautiful dog named Saroo. I remember meeting Saroo a few years ago. He was in the office with Jodi and as I approached, Jodi rushed out and warned me: “Don’t make any sudden movements and do not, under any circumstances, make eye contact.” Saroo was a rescue, and unlike most pavement specials, he was gorgeous and, as with most humans with the pretty-privilege, rather complicated. Saroo never took to me, but he but did take to my legs. He proudly tried to remove a piece of flesh from my calf on one traumatic occasion.

Earlier this year, the beautiful Saroo passed away. We still miss him. Some dogs leave paw prints on your heart. Saroo preferred leaving teeth marks on my calf. Either way, he made sure he would not be forgotten.

It is said that the best way to honour a dog is to rescue another. Dr Jodi did exactly that and adopted her little hyena; Bayleigh, from a shelter. Bayleigh was neutered upon adoption and to prevent further injury post-surgery, was supposed to be kept calm and quiet, so she started coming to work with Jodi. Little Bayleigh has managed to creep right into our hearts, and I love that despite fancy grooming and very expensive accessories, she remains completely disheveled and rather wild looking. (She resembles a mango pip sucked to within an inch of its life). I’ve loved getting to know little Bayleigh and seeing how her personality is taking shape. She (similar to Jack) is not aware of her size, and has started chasing our hadedas despite them towering above her. She barks at everyone who walks past the Zazen den and has enthusiastically tried to befriend Jack, Frootloop and Max.

Max is without a doubt the best-looking dog to have ever graced the lodge’s premises. He belongs to Dr Jes (or maybe he owns her?) and despite his ripe old age of 14, has a shimmering coat, bright beautiful eyes and a strut that shows he is very much aware of his good looks. To add to the circus of dogs at the lodge, Prince Max had to start coming to work too. He had a very complicated knee injury which resulted in a very complicated surgery followed by an even more complicated recovery – one which did not allow him to do most things dogs do and included words like “bed-rest”, “aqua-physio-therapy,” “collagen-rich-diet” and “strength exercises”. Prince Max had to be keenly observed and on occasion when Jesne was not carrying him and his cone strapped to her bosom in a fancy dog-carrier, he recuperated in the sun in the Zazen-den.

These are our dogs and their tails (pun intended), but the story does not end here. I think because we know how we love our hounds and how they love us (possibly with the exception of Jack) we absolutely encourage our patients to continue the relationships with their pets regardless of why they are with us.

Last month we had a young man, Peet, stay with us during the last months of his life. He had the most beautiful blonde labrador, named Lenny. Lenny visited him daily. When it was hard for people to witness Peet’s suffering, he found solace in Lenny’s silent presence. On the last evening of Peet’s life, Lenny jumped up on the bed, spooned Peet and remained there the whole evening. The next day Lenny stayed close to Peet’s wife and children, aware of the extra grief he was helping them carry.

The bond between us and man’s best friend is something I don’t really understand. Maybe it is the absolute unconditional love or loyalty they give us, but I wonder if there is something deeper that transcends all that? Last year we had a terribly sick patient, who despite all indicators, just did not die. When these things happen, people always think of reasons why someone may be clinging to life. The spiritual gurus might say the cosmic portal has a blockage. Some psychoanalysts might say the patient needs to resolve issues with loved ones. Some religious fanatics could accuse the patient of not making the necessary peace with a diety. Whatever it was, the patient kept living one day after another with no medical reason.

In the end, we asked her son to bring her beloved Maltese to come give her a cuddle, and just like that, with the Maltese poodle happily cuddled up with the patient, she gently slipped away. Maybe she just wanted to say goodbye to him (and quite possibly, it was a complete co-incidence) but it is a special memory for us to remember her being with her doggie right to the end.

We have many heart-warming canine chronicles, from Sally the scared, shivering Yorkie who was continually attacked by our cat, to huge boerboels trying to squeeze themselves onto owner’s wheelchairs. We witnessed how Juniper, a dog we rescued for our lovely Lizette changed the last months of her life to be filled with abundant joy. We are honoured to see how people still connect with their pets long after their usual communication abilities change.

It is quite special to see how much space these canines can take up in a lodge full of people. Between Jack’s delusions of grandeur, Frootloop’s endless enthusiasm, Bayleigh’s hyena-like origins and Max’s royal-like recovery, I’ve learned that animals, much like people, don’t have to be perfect to be loved. They simply need to show up, be themselves and love us through all the ups and downs.