Sally had trouble speaking in social situations. I'm a registered nurse and I love kids and dogs. I wanted to use Bella to bring her joy, comfort and confidence the way only a dog can.
That morning in January, her teacher led us to a room by the school office. "Sally hasn't spoken outside her home in two years," she told me. "Her parents have taken her to doctors, but nothing has worked." A little girl stood shyly just inside the doorway. Her eyes brightened when noticing my dog.
"This is Isabella Rose. I call her Bella," I said. "Would you like to pet her? She doesn't know anyone here and she'd like to meet you. She does tricks. Would you like to see?"
Sally nodded. I motioned with my hand. Bella lay down and then rolled over. Sally's eyes cheered up. "She'll do it for you too," I said. "I can teach you."
I showed Sally the hand signals for various commands. She was a natural with Bella. Soon Sally was able to take Bella at her pace all on her own. I could see her standing taller, more sure of herself each time we met.
One morning, when she was working with Bella, I heard a tiny voice, barely a whisper: "Good dog." Sally didn't take her eyes off Bella, but I wanted to jump for joy. Sally spoke a little more each week, only to Bella at first, but then to me. Later, she started giving voice commands with her hand signals and her confidence rose. Still, she hadn't spoken in her classroom.
"Could you bring Bella to my class and show the other kids her tricks?" Sally asked me one day. An idea struck me. "Why don't you do it?" I said. "I know you can. You're as good with Bella as I am." Now, Sally stood nervously in front of her kindergarten class, with Bella sitting calmly by her side. Her classmates focused on Sally, waiting for her to speak.
注意：所续写短文的词数应为150左右；
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But not a word came out.
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The next week, she told me she wanted to try again, looking up at me with determination.
