Misunderstanding the therapy dog role

photo by Françoise

You might be wondering why Gail has a pot plant growing out of her head, but that is not the point of this post. 

Perhaps you have already deduced that the photo above was not taken in our house. 

We were visiting Gail's friend Françoise, who is currently stuck at home recuperating from a nasty three-times broken and still painful ankle. 

I have often fantasised about being a therapy dog, going round bringing joy to people who need cheering up by jumping all over them and licking their wounds.  Grateful 'clients' insisting on showering me with treats has always been an important part of the fantasy.

But to be honest, the whole experience the other day was rather disappointing, as I was kept on a short lead throughout the visit and was restrained from touching Françoise's ankle or even getting close to her. There was a distressing absence of dog treats too (although I noticed that the humans had cake).

I asked Gail why everything was so boring and she said I had misunderstood what is required of a therapy dog and first and foremost I needed to be aware that it's not all about me...

What???

Hyperactive tail-wagging

There are some humans whose very proximity prompts one's tail to enter a state of involuntary hyperactive wagging, even before one realises quite why one feels so excited. 

Of course, it didn't take long on Sunday morning to remember that Gail's friend M carries very delicious and generously sized biscuits in her coat pocket, and she can be relied upon to offer these to a certain enthusiastic fox terrier when we meet at the start of a walk.

To be honest, the treat bit was the highlight of our Sunday excursion along the river with M and J. 

I think I've mentioned before that it has been raining quite a lot in Aberdeen just lately. The walk came to an abrupt end when the path disappeared into the still swollen river Dee. 

I really don't know why Gail and J were wasting time debating the issue. I could have told them right away we were going to have to turn back!

Hoping for a treat...

"Expectation management"

Don't you just hate that phrase?

I hear it from Gail a lot. Especially in relation to treats.

It's bad enough that she never ever gives me any tasty morsels when she herself is eating, whether at home, in a café or enjoying a picnic when out on a walk.

What's worse is that tells her friends to do the same, claiming that if I learn to expect something then I will "become a pest". 

I know for a fact that her friend 'M', pictured above, always carries nice big treats in her pocket, and of course I expect to be given some.

The good news is, I just know that my expectations in this regard will be met at some stage in our regular walks.

I do like 'M'.