Ava’s Story

It was a long morning at the child advocacy center. A mother and a father sat in the waiting room with their three children, two of whom were there for forensic interviews; something no family should ever have to endure. But from the moment they walked in, Polar was there for them. He lay quietly in the center of the room, offering his support and comfort to a family holding it together as best they could.

Ten-year-old Ava, the oldest sibling, was especially drawn to him. She rarely left his side, and while her younger siblings moved in and out of activities and moments of distraction, Ava stayed close to Polar. Before her interview, Ava clung to him, and Polar never moved. He didn't need to; his presence said everything. And when Ava came out of the interview, her eyes were rimmed with tears. She buried her face in Polar's fur, and again, he stayed still, letting her feel what she needed to feel without judgment or expectation.

Then, quietly, Polar's handler reached into a bag and pulled out a tennis ball. Handing it to Ava, she encouraged the child to throw it across the room, and as if in agreement, Polar's tail thumped. In moments, they were playing a game of fetch in the waiting room, with the entire family laughing as Polar raced around the small room with the ball, making it squeak and wagging his tail like nothing in the world was wrong. And for a little while, nothing was. Polar turned her fear to laughter, and he reminded her that joy could still exist, even in hard places.