His leash dragged on the floor of the department store, he walked slowly as his hip bulged with an under the skin growth … he was old. I could see his age in the grey hairs around his nose. Where shiny black hair used to cover him, it was now greying and dull. He wore a bright orange vest that read, “Therapy Dog” with worn and faded threads that looked as if it had been worn for several outings. He stayed close to his owner, willingly without a hand holding him.
His owner, a grey-haired man with a faded Vietnam Veteran hat that gave insight to his age and history; a short and slender man with faded arm tattoos and deep wrinkles around his eyes. His black torn t-shirt and faded blue jeans with the oil stains made the partnership between dog and man seemingly connected and loyal.
As the man searched the dog followed.
“Dogs offer so much therapy.” a friend proclaimed as he talked about his new puppy. I’d never thought about the therapy a dog offers – only its service. Sure, I’d seen our elderly dog (going on 15 years now) be a faithful companion to my daughters. She’s done it all from chasing a four-wheeler to playing dress-up … our little Cairn/Bichon mix brought joy and companionship to my girls. Now that my older girls have moved out – she sleeps a lot, growing older and continuously resting at my feet.
I didn’t think I needed therapy until I got a dog.
Can therapy be silent? I didn’t think so – therapy meant person to person discussion, reliving and sorting emotions, trauma, and finding closure to heart pained events. There is a reason empty-nesters, veterans, elderly, and broken people, get pets … we need something to love us and choose us. When we have no words to offer and acceptance of our season of life is mandatory – when wrestling with an empty nest feels like an empty next … perhaps a little therapy does a heart good.
My lab/bulldog mix puppy is obnoxious – he’s a year-old terminator who will chew a shoe, greet you with a nose in your crotch, and demand walks, runs, and frisbee throws … and I love him. He chooses me over anyone else, follows me, watches me … and mostly obeys. Most of all, the therapy he gives is joy and a willingness to be with me no matter where I’m going or resting.
So, the next time someone’s dog irritates you or causes you to judge a person for loving on their pets so much … chances are, that person is in need of a little therapy, a little love from something that chooses them. And mostly, some joy in their life that comes from a silent and faithful companion.
Blessings,
