weirdly therapeutic—and told the pet
how hard it was to watch her dad lose
his identity. “I’m here for you,” Pony
said. “I love you, Arnie.”
A
s time went on, the father,
daughter, and family “pet” grew
closer. In the summer, Arlyn car-
ried the tablet to the picnic table on the
patio so they could eat lunch overlook-
ing the lake. When Arlyn took her dad
sailing, Jim brought Pony along. (“I
saw mostly sky,” Rochin recalls.) One
day, Pony held up a photo of Jim’s
wife, Dorothy Anderson, between her
paws. It had been more than a year
since his wife’s death, and Jim hardly
mentioned her anymore. That day,
though, he gazed at the photo fondly.
“I still love her,” he declared. Arlyn
rubbed his shoulder, clasping her hand
over her mouth to stifle her crying. “I
am getting emotional, too,” Pony said.
Then Jim leaned toward the picture of
his deceased wife and petted her face
with his finger, the same way he would
to awaken a sleeping Pony.
In early March 2014, Jim fell on his
way to the bathroom. He was checked
into a hospital, then into the nursing
home he’d so wanted to avoid. The
wired (december 2017), copyright © 2017
by lauren smiley, wired.com.Wi-Fi there was spotty, which made it
difficult for Jim and Pony to connect.
That July, in an e-mail from Wang,
Rochin learned that Jim had died in
his sleep. Sitting before his laptop,
Rochin bowed his head and recited a
silent Lord’s Prayer for Jim. Even now,
when a senior will do something that
reminds him of Jim, Rochin feels a
pang. “I still care about them,” he says.
On July 29, 2014, Arlyn carried Pony
to Jim’s funeral, placing the tablet fac-
ing forward on the pew beside her.
She invited any workers behind Pony
who wanted to attend to log in.
A year later, Arlyn finally deleted the
Care.coach service from the tablet—it
felt like a kind of second burial. She
still sighs, “Pony!” when the voice of
her old friend gives her directions as
she drives around Minneapolis, re-
incarnated in Google Maps.
After saying his prayer for Jim,
Rochin logged in to the Care.coach
dashboard to make his rounds. He
ducked into living rooms, kitchens,
and hospital rooms around the United
States—seeing if all was well, seeing if
anybody needed to talk.ARLYN TAUGHT PONY TO SAY
“YEAH, SURE, YOU BETCHA”
LIKE A MINNESOTAN,
WHICH MADE HER LAUGH.rd.com 95Health & Medicine Reader’s Digest