Walk into the health care center at the Luther Acres in Lititz on a Thursday afternoon, and you’ll see people circled around a red wagon in the lobby, chatting excitedly.

You’d be forgiven if, like many visitors to the senior citizen community, you did a double take.

After all, there’s a pig in that wagon.

The object of the group’s admiration is Harlequin Rose — Harley for short — a black, 85-pound therapy pig that visits with residents every week.

Harley grunts softly and pushes her glistening snout forward, accepting affectionate pats on the head from her fan club. Her thin tail whips back and forth like a happy dog’s.

A wiseacre makes a bacon joke as he walks past Harley’s wagon.

“She’s quite the ham,” Harley’s owner, Chris Hainley, says in response.

Hainley and husband Tom push Harley’s wagon around the corridors of the health care center, letting residents look at or pet the pig — whatever they’re comfortable with.

Harley and Chris Hainley, 42, are registered as a therapy team with Pet Partners, a national therapy-pet organization. Hainley went through its training program for handling a therapy animal.

“This is (Harley’s) facility,” she says of Luther Acres. “These are her people. As soon as I walk her through the door, she’s standing up and her tail is going.

“You can tell she’s relaxed and happy. She’s very easily pleased. She doesn’t get stressed much. She’s very tolerant of what I ask of her.”

Found her purpose

Dressed in leggings, sneakers and a hoodie decorated with images of pigs, Hainley is a dynamic presence at Luther Acres, poking her head into residents’ rooms and asking them if they’d like to meet a pig.

She speaks cheerfully and loudly for the benefit of those with hearing loss, and is knowledgeable when answering questions about pigs.

But her energetic presence conceals a serious illness. Hainley has metastatic thyroid cancer. She has had two surgeries and two rounds of radiation.

She says bringing Harley to visit residents of Luther Acres, schools and other facilities helps her cope with her illness.

“We’re in limbo right now,” she says, tears rolling down her face. “I still have cancer cells, but it’s very slow-growing, so we’re going to take a wait-and-see approach. I’m not a candidate for any more surgeries.

“Before my cancer, I worked full time,” she says. “I was the office manager of a dental clinic. … I ran the farm. I raised goats. I never stopped.

“There are lots of times when I physically can’t get out of bed,” Hainley says. “Then there’s the emotional side — I just get depressed. You’ll feel sorry for yourself. But I’m happy when I come here. You see the happiness that Harley brings to people.

“We all search for a purpose in life,” Hainley says. “This is my purpose. It took me all these years to find my purpose. And it all started with a pig.”

Hainley’s daughter, Michaela Mattson, joins her on many of Harley’s visits to Luther Acres.

“What’s really neat is that it’s brought my family close,” says Hainley, tearing up again. “My daughter is 18. What 18-year-old wants to hang out with her mom?

“I’m supposed to be bringing Harley to do therapy visits for people, and it’s doing so much more for my family,” she says.

Visiting residents

Harley rides in a wagon because she’s getting a touch of arthritis and has trouble walking long distances, Hainley says.

“She’s a bit of a diva,” she adds with a laugh.

“Harley, Miss Catherine’s here,” she says.

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“Hi, Harley,” says resident Catherine Freeman, 92, whose family has pushed her wheelchair up to Harley’s wagon.

Harley’s ears twitch at the sound of Freeman’s voice. Freeman runs her hand over the coarse hair on the pig’s head. Freeman is one of Harley’s special friends, Hainley explains.

“I’m not a true lover of animals,” Freeman, says. “But Harley Rose is someone special. The first time she was here, I saw love in her eyes. And that’s something you don’t see in all people’s eyes. It’s unconditional love.

“She’s nice and clean,” Freeman adds. “She doesn’t smell. And she just makes me happy.”

“Mom’s a different person on Thursday,” says Freeman’s daughter, Susan Martin. “She can be depressed until Thursday morning, and then — wham — totally different. (Harley) puts a smile on her face.”

“An apple a day keeps the doctor away,” resident Violet McCauley, 84, says as she feeds Harley some apple slices.

McCauley feels she had an immediate connection with Harley, having grown up on a Berks County farm with pigs, chickens and goats.

“I would say Harley has a calming effect on people,” says Mary Schreiber, Luther Acres’ therapeutic recreation director. “Everybody just gathers around. It’s almost a fellowship time, where everyone just comes together.

“Their responses show us that it’s meaningful,” Schreiber says of the residents who meet Harley. “It’s their smiles, their reaching out to touch the pig, asking questions.

“It’s a break in the day-to-day routine to have something so different come to visit us,” Schreiber says. “We have appreciated the therapeutic value of animals here. We very much welcome animals and recognize the joy they bring.”

When Harley isn’t visiting, Schreiber takes golden doodle Rosie, Luther Acres’ “campus dog,” around to visit the residents.

Anniversary gift

“Harley was an anniversary gift from my husband,” Hainley says. Harley is one of seven pigs that live inside the Hainleys’ house. Six more live on the grounds of their farmette, FairyTail Acres, near Denver.

Harley and another pig sleep on the couch. Others sleep on blankets in a spare bedroom.

“Most of our pigs are rescue pigs,” Hainley says. “People get them when they’re little, and they don’t realize … they’ll eventually get big.

“I had always wanted a pig,” she adds.

Her husband, a truck driver whose schedule allows him to accompany her to Luther Acres, says he was initially reticent about getting a dog, let alone a pig.

“After the health issues I had gone through, I think my husband felt bad and let me have one,” Hainley says.

“Since Harley was young, we started taking her places, putting her on a leash, taking her to pet stores —anyplace you could take a dog,” Hainley says. “And she just seemed to have a gift for drawing the people in and being content with it. I knew then that she was going to be something special.”

Hainley, who takes her pig to other facilities monthly, is looking for more places for Harley to visit. She is in the process of filling out the paperwork necessary for them to visit the Lebanon VA Medical Center.

And in a few months she will start training another pig, Charlie, to be a therapy pig, as well.

“He does tricks,” she says of Charlie. “He sits, he spins in circles, he’s learning to play the piano.”

Harley and the Hainley family end each visit to Luther Acres with some time with residents of the memory-support unit, most of whom have a diagnosis of dementia, Schreiber says.

“They can just sit and be a presence with Harley,” she adds.

During those quiet moments, the staff arranges wheelchairs in a circle around Harley’s wagon. One by one, each resident is asked if he or she wants to come close to the pig; most give assent. Each is wheeled up to Harley, who good-naturedly accepts whatever they have to offer — a pat on the head, or just a long look.

“Even those residents who have forgotten so much,” Hainley says, “will often remember, ‘You’re the one that comes here all the time,’ or ‘That’s the pig that comes here every week.’

“I’ve seen in just the three months or so that we’ve been coming here that Harley has stimulated some cognitive thinking” in those residents, she says.

“It’s a great feeling to know that you’re making somebody’s day,” Hainley adds. “The residents look forward to ‘Therapy Thursdays.’ They’ve welcomed us as members of the family.”¶