Harry didn’t begin life as a hospice dog. He began as a survivor. In the chaos following Hurricane Harvey, when the floodwaters finally receded and the long work of recovery began, someone found a young Great Pyrenees puppy alone in a field. He was in terrible condition—malnourished, exhausted, and with a badly mangled back leg. However he had endured the storm, it had clearly taken its toll. The team at Texas Great Pyrenees Rescue stepped in. They nursed the frightened pup back to health with patience and care. Saving Harry’s life required a difficult decision: one of his back legs had to be removed. But what Harry lost physically, he more than made up for in spirit. As he healed, his gentle temperament and steady, loving presence began to shine through. Not long after, Pastor Mark met Harry—and the two found each other in the way that sometimes feels less like coincidence and more like providence. Mark adopted Harry and began working with him, slowly and faithfully, to train him as a therapy dog. It took time, consistency, and plenty of treats, but in 2018 Harry (and Mark) officially earned therapy dog certification. Since then, Harry has spent his days doing what he seems uniquely created to do: offering quiet comfort when it is needed most. He regularly accompanies Pastor Mark on visits to hospice patients and assisted living homes. In rooms often filled with uncertainty, grief, or loneliness, Harry has a simple ministry. He leans gently against a leg. He rests his head on a waiting hand. He looks into tired eyes with calm, unhurried attention. Often people at the end of life still carry a deep need—to give affection and to receive it. Harry is especially good at both. He brings smiles in hard moments. He softens anxious rooms. After all, Harry knows something about hard times himself. These days, Harry’s ministry has grown. At ChristChurch Learning Center, he serves as the unofficial (but widely beloved) chaplain, helping with chapel every Wednesday. The children know him, watch for him, and greet him with joy. On Sundays, he often helps with worship too, faithfully sitting in the back with the children—of all ages—quietly present, as good chaplains often are. From hurricane survivor to hospice companion, Harry’s life is a gentle testimony: healing is possible, love can be learned and shared, and sometimes the most powerful ministry comes on three legs and a soft, steady heart.