Editor's Note: This story was initially published in the Pioneer's Spring 2024 edition of inBemidji Magazine. To see the full issue, visit
It’s Friday morning, a little past 8. Rick Jaskowiak reaches for his jacket and heads for the door.
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That’s when Banjo knows it’s time to go to work. Not to a tedious, watch-the-clock kind of job, but to a place where he gives and receives joy… and lots of treats and belly rubs.
“Banjo is the most popular living thing in this hospital,” says Kari Knudson, who coordinates the dog therapy program at Sanford Bemidji Medical Center.
It’s hard to argue that as you watch the gentle 85-pound charmer on his weekly rounds at Sanford. Banjo and Rick have been working at the hospital since August 2017, shortly after completing the Paul Bunyan Dog Training Association program for therapy dogs.
Banjo’s anticipation grows as Rick’s vehicle turns onto Anne Street near the hospital. It grows even more when they pull into the parking lot and he gets his official badge on.
“That’s when he really knows he’s going to work,” Rick said.
They reach the lobby at the east entrance and the loving begins. It seems everyone is happy to greet Banjo. The ritual continues as Rick and Banjo make their way from floor to floor, department to department, over the next three to four hours.
“He’s world famous for belly rubs,” said Rick, a retired forester and mapping specialist. “It’s not five minutes we’re in the hospital and he’s on the floor, right in the lobby. It makes no difference where he’s at. He’ll slide down into a belly rub. He suckers just about everybody down there.”
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He adds that if no one goes down to pet Banjo, he’ll come right back up and try again.
“He lays on his side first,” he explains. “People will get up and start leaving, then he’ll roll all the way over so his belly is actually sticking straight up. ‘You can’t quite leave yet, you’re not done.’ And I would say 90% of the people come back and pet him some more.”
A perfect match
Rick and his wife, Leanne, became Banjo’s owners on Dec. 2, 2016, when he was a little over a year old. They were looking for a new pet after their black lab had died earlier in the year. After posting an ad online seeking another black lab, Rick received a call asking if he would consider adopting a mixed-breed dog instead.
That call came from a farm family with three children, three dogs, some chickens and two full-time jobs.
“So they decided to give the newest dog away,” Rick said. “We said, ‘Sure, we’ll meet with him.’”
It was in the parking lot of a local veterinary clinic where that meeting took place. Rick and Leanne fell in love with the furry fellow and agreed to take him. But first, the dog had an appointment to be neutered.
“So he went into the vet’s office and came out fixed,” Rick said. “He was groggy. We took him home and the poor guy was sore for days, and I’m sure he was wondering what happened. He left this busy house with three kids, and now he wakes up with these two old people.”
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Now it was time to find a new name for the new family member. His previous name – “Guilty” – was not going to cut it. So Rick and Leanne turned to the internet for help.
“We found a site that asks a bunch of questions about your family and your living situation, all kinds of information about you,” Rick said. “Then they pump out a list of 50 names that might suit that situation. We went through all 50 and threw out all but seven. From there we finally landed on ‘Banjo.’ That’ll work. Dogs respond really easily to a change of names. Just give them some treats and they’ll follow you anywhere.”
Rick was told the dog was one-half collie, one-fourth Labrador retriever and one-fourth poodle.
“I didn’t quite believe the poodle part,” Rick said, “so I had a DNA test done, and that’s exactly what he is. I call him a Collabradoodle.”
‘A mellow guy’
After a couple of months of acclimation, Rick decided it was time for professional training.
“We considered therapy training right away,” he said. “Banjo was just a mellow guy right from the start. It was always in the back of my mind to do this therapy stuff. But our other dog wasn’t suited for it.”
First came a pair of obedience classes, followed by a therapy class and field trials. Dogs are observed to see how they respond to rough handling, people grabbing their paws and ears, how they do with sliding glass doors, elevators, food carts, walkers and other equipment. Banjo handled it all with ease.
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“It was clear right away he had the right temperament,” Rick recalled. “Even in obedience school, you could tell. He graduated valedictorian. For real.”
They started therapy work by visiting nursing homes and assisted living facilities. Then Rick inquired about visiting the hospital floors, and Kari agreed to give it a try. She said therapy dogs were previously only used in the acute rehab unit.
Rick and Banjo were a hit with staff and patients. Those first visits were shorter, and Rick was learning right along with his dog.
“I don’t knock on (patients’) doors,” he said. “If the doctor is there I don’t go in. I kind of peek in the door and see if a patient is either looking out or smiling at me, or you can tell by their eyes they want a visit. I’ll ask them if it’s OK if Banjo comes in.”
“Right from the very beginning it was a good fit,” Kari said. “Banjo and Rick are just a calming presence. We often forget about Rick; he’s ‘that guy with Banjo.’ Without Rick, Banjo would not be the therapy dog that he is. I can say that about all of our therapy dogs. They’re a real team. The dog is only as good as the handler.”
Therapy is real … and tiring
While Banjo is content to get belly rubs and treats, the impact he has on hospital patients can be overwhelming.
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“He seems to pick up on people’s distress,” Rick said. “With some people, he’ll just go get petted. Other people, he’ll sit by them and lean on them. Or if we visit a patient in bed, I think he kind of knows what side they’re hurting on or not. He picks up on that. He also picks up on people who don’t like dogs.”
Rick recalls three examples of memorable visits.
Once they were in a room with a young boy who had a neurological issue and couldn’t control his arms or his speech. The boy was in a chair, flailing his arms and slapping at the dog.
“Banjo just sat there taking it,” Rick said. “Somebody was paying attention to him, so he’s all good. Then the boy let out a big laugh, and several of the nurses stuck their heads around the corner and said that was the first sound they had ever heard him make. So that was kind of cool.”
Banjo’s longest visit was with a woman in the waiting area at Sanford’s Joe Lueken Cancer Center where her husband was undergoing cancer treatment.
“She talked for about an hour and 15 minutes about her husband, where they’ve lived, what they’ve done,” Rick said. “Banjo was sitting on the floor leaning on her the whole time. He never left. He sensed that she was distressed and grieving, so he just sat there. There were also times that she didn’t talk at all; she just petted Banjo.”
Another time they were visiting a teenage girl who was in a hospital bed with her mother sitting beside her. The girl asked if Banjo could come into bed with her.
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“I asked the mom if it was OK and I asked her if she was hurting anywhere,” Rick said. “She wanted him. So he jumped up there and snuggled up under her arm and pretty much laid motionless for 15 to 20 minutes.”
When all of the visits are complete, all of the belly rubs have been given, all of the treats have been consumed, it’s time to head home for some well-deserved rest. That goes for both handler and therapy dog.
“You can tell Banjo is wiped out,” Rick said. “We’re both shot after 3 to 4 hours.”
At least until next Friday rolls around.
Interested in the therapy dog program?
The Paul Bunyan Dog Training Association offers therapy dog training twice a year, in the spring and fall. Upon successful completion, owners can move on to reading education assistance dog training to qualify as a Bemidji Area Reading Canine.
To learn more about the programs, contact Tracy Parthun at (218) 766-4935. Tracy has coordinated the training programs since 2001.
“It’s really fun to see the therapy dogs at work and just to experience it myself as I go around and visit, too,” Tracy said. “It brings so much joy to the patients and clients we’re visiting, and the staff, too. It’s a 50-50 thing.”
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