By the time most of you read this, I’ll have attended the annual March Madness party that I’ve written about before. Lots of men in an undisclosed location, watching NCAA basketball on several TVs, drinking beer, playing poker and eating mass quantities of smoked meat, meatballs and other delicacies.

I wrote my first column about this in 2009, and I’ve been attending ever since, with a gap over the COVID years. The highlight was the year we all watched 15th-seeded Lehigh University — led by one of my former journalism students, C.J. McCollum — beat second-seed Duke in one of the biggest tournament upsets ever. The fact that I’m a rabid fan of North Carolina — Duke’s hated rival — made it even better.

I mention all this to set the scene for the Lehigh-Boston University Patriot League Championship basketball game last week, which I attended with a friend. Stabler Arena was rocking, and Lehigh played great.

As Lehigh pulled away for the 74-60 victory that would put them in the NCAA tournament, fans — including me — began chanting, “We want Duke!”

OK, we were a bit carried away. But it was fun.

I’m still feeling the glow, even though Lehigh ended up losing its first game in March Madness. My great mood inspired me to offer a feel-good story that follows up on some old columns about an old friend.

Dr. Gene Witiak is a veterinarian who founded Lehigh Valley Animal Hospital and HanoverView Animal Hospital and practiced for more than 55 years before retiring in 2019. I wrote years ago about his books “True Confessions of a Veterinarian: An Unconditional Love Story” and “The Hug: A Veterinarian’s Secret Potion.”

Think “All Creatures Great and Small,” Lehigh Valley-style. They were very enjoyable, at least for me as a big animal lover. Both still are available at amazon.com.

Now Witiak has a new book out, and it’s another charmer. The title is “I Need a Career Change … But I’m Only Two Years Old.” That refers to the opening section, which focuses — with some literary license — on a real Midwestern black Lab named Amos, whose overly outgoing personality caused him to “fail” seeing-eye school, but who turned out to be perfectly suited to work as a courthouse therapy dog.

The book then pivots to the story of Lehigh County’s courthouse facility dog, Ramona, as told by her handler, Kimberly Silvestri, victim witness coordinator for the Lehigh district attorney’s office. Ramona, also a black Lab, arrived there from Canine Partners for Life in 2017 and quickly began playing an important role in calming victims and witnesses just by her presence.

Silvestri wrote, “Ramona … has given assistance and comfort to victims of crime of all ages, but particularly to child victims, elderly victims and victims of sexual assault. Ramona has been utilized in homicide cases, aggravated assault, arson and sexual assault. She has been amazingly helpful and comforting to so many people.”

If you’ve ever had a dog, you understand perfectly. Our dogs always have known instinctively when I needed their comforting presence — on the bed, on my lap or leaning against me. Just touching them makes me feel better.

The book also shares several dozen of what Witiak calls “impact stories” that he collected from pet owners who wrote about the way their companion animals enriched their lives and from children writing about their school’s therapy dog.

I was particularly moved by the story of Angus, told by the sister of his late owner, Joe. Angus was a border collie who became Joe’s companion while Joe was going through a divorce.

The storyteller wrote of the time the family had been trying to reach Joe for a couple of days and finally contacted police. They found he had died in his favorite chair.

“And where was Angus?” she wrote. “An officer replied that they found Angus faithfully at Joe’s side, keeping him company. Amos had brought and dropped a supply of toys around Joe’s chair throughout the day.”

My dog, Gracie, brings me her toys every time she wants attention, which is most of the time. So that one choked me up.

Ramona will be retiring from her official duties this spring. Silvestri will appear with her 2-4 p.m. today (March 21), for Witiak’s book signing at HanoverView Animal Hospital, 7122 Bath Pike, East Allen Township. The book is available for sale there or by contacting Witiak by email at thehug.witiak@gmail.com.

By the way, the book concludes with 20 of Witiak’s own stories and reflections, another reminder of what a great storyteller he is. He shared another with me on the phone this week, when he explained that he euthanized his own dogs and cats over the years when it was time.

He told me he shed tears more than once as he said goodbye to those old friends. “One of our cats actually picked up his paw and handed it to me,” he told me. “It was like he was saying, ‘It’s OK. I’m ready.’ ”

Unfortunately, even when they are, we aren’t. So I’m thankful for the empathy of many caring vets who have walked me through those painful times.

The best ones aren’t just technicians. Like Gene Witiak — and our four-legged friends — they’re comforters.

This is a contributed opinion column. Bill White can be reached at whitebil1974@gmail.com. The views expressed in this piece are those of its individual author, and should not be interpreted as reflecting the views of this publication. Do you have a perspective to share? Learn more about how we handle guest opinion submissions at themorningcall.com/opinions.