By Erika Pesantes, Sun Sentinel

MIRAMAR — In a new pediatric unit at Memorial Hospital Miramar, a special golden retriever named Compass is helping a 3-year-old girl find her voice.

The child had trouble closing her mouth and making sounds as a toddler. When a speech pathologist evaluated her, she was missing verbs and consonants in her speech. She pointed at things to communicate.
Now, she strings together words, and when the 5-year-old dog is by her side, the commands roll off her tongue.

She tells him, "Sit."

"Wait."

Compass, who serves about three or four children for speech therapy at Memorial Regional Miramar weekly, already is making a difference at the recently opened Joe DiMaggio Children's Hospital Therapy Services unit, off Pembroke Road west of Interstate 75.

Each one of Memorial Healthcare System's six hospitals has a therapy dog assigned to it.

Certain children show marked improvement and blossom with pet therapy, said Rita Galliano, a speech pathologist who began introducing Compass into Valeria's weekly therapy sessions in recent months.

Such dogs become a motivating tool, and under the guise of play, progress is made. "For kids, being able to take the leading role makes them want to say more," Galliano said.

Adults "usually take the lead role and the kids are so young compared to us that they feel a little bit intimidated," she said.

"With Compass, it's the opposite," she said. "The kids feel like they are in control."

A speech delay

Valeria Sanchez was born on Nov. 12, 2010. Her mother, Daily Camacaro, of Pembroke Pines, calls her a "miracle baby," who was conceived after two prior miscarriages. She is the eldest of Camacaro's two daughters.

The speech impediment was inexplicable, Camacaro said. Before seeking treatment, Valeria's vocabulary mainly consisted of mamá and papá, the words for mom and dad in Spanish.

Doctors ran multiple tests to look for signs of mental handicap and autism. She was in the clear, Camacaro said, but early on she suffered multiple ear infections that led to surgery.

Camacaro thought the ear complications could have affected her speech development.

But soon, it was clear that Valeria needed help. When Galliano first evaluated Valeria, the child had trouble closing her mouth and making sounds.

She was missing verbs and consonants in her speech; she was instead gesturing to communicate.

"Now she's using three or four words, phrases, sentences," Galliano said.

Although the cause of a speech delay is often unknown, about 7 to 10 percent of the population might be affected, Galliano said. Children typically utter their first word around their first birthday.
Speech pathologists also usually help youngsters who might have trouble creating complete sentences or have problems with reading comprehension or following instructions, Galliano said.

Galliano learned about success stories elsewhere with therapy dogs, and she soon wanted to enlist a pooch that would help her do the same at the Miramar hospital.

Valeria's weekly therapy sessions began little more than a year ago. But Compass joined in just a few months ago.

The girl's connection with Compass happened instantly. She ran into him at the hospital and excitedly gravitated toward him.

And then, about a month ago, it finally clicked: Valeria began giving Compass commands. She began using words spontaneously. She told her mother, "I love you."

"It was like, 'Oh my God!'" Camacaro recalled.

Valeria's speech therapy session now is peppered with giggles and squeals. She bounces up and down in glee, her pigtails flopping about. She is now a social and spontaneous little girl who loves to dance and be funny, her mother said.

"She's so motivated to come. She's so happy," Camacaro said. "And she's starting to talk, so that's what I want."

"That's a big difference for me and everyone in the family."

The 'ultimate dream'

Compass and the other therapy dogs all came from a Connecticut-based breeder. With the exception of one dog, the golden retrievers are all half-siblings that share the same father.

They're trained for two years and have a vocabulary of about 80 commands, Compass' handler, D.J. McKee, said. She's been working with Compass for the past four years.

It's an experience she calls her "ultimate dream." She knows how touching Compass' interactions are with patients. Compass has a packed, Monday-through-Friday schedule, roaming across the hospital comforting patients and visitors. Hospital policy mandates that for every hour worked, Compass must have an hour of rest.

He has scheduled sessions, such as speech therapy with Valeria and other children, and visits waiting rooms outside operating rooms to soothe the nerves of relatives waiting to hear news about loved ones.

Under McKee's watch, Compass has been there when a child learned to feed himself, a young adult with brain damage showed signs of consciousness with a simple smile and a little girl regained her ability to walk.

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