A therapy dog can be any breed from a teacup Yorkie to an Irish Wolfhound as long as it’s calm, tolerates other animals and loves to be petted by strangers. They’re great at places like old folks’ homes, hospital wards for kids with long term illnesses, even prisons. Therapy dogs are happy to see you, whoever you are.
I have two cats at home that I think of as therapy animals. Mortimer, huge and orange with an extra toe on each of his four feet, loves everyone; Lucy, small, black and white, and younger likes three people plus Mortimer – and in the whole world that’s it for objects of her affections.
When we had an office near my apartment in New York, I used to bring my cats to work but now that we’re in our Hollywood, Florida marina office two and a half miles from home, I can’t do that anymore.
But I do have Cappy.
Cappy’s a Maltese Terrier who belongs to Bruce and Lara, a nice couple from New England. They sailed into the marina (our office is on the second floor of the Harbor master’s office) a year and a half ago and took a more or less permanent lease on a slip right outside my office window.
They live in their sail boat, and they share our huge downstairs terrace with us and people from other boats. It’s a very collegial gathering and was somewhat staid until Bruce and Lara brought home a tiny white bundle of fur. Cappy.
Dogs need somewhere to run off their leashes but you can’t take a dog off the leash in the marina. So Cappy comes upstairs to run around our offices. And run he does. Nonstop for the first 5 minutes, ripping figure eights around tables and chairs, racing after the balls we throw him for him.
His favorite spot is under my desk where he might find a crumb or two leftover from my lunch. When he (and Bruce and Lara, of course) went up north for a few weeks, I was bereft. No Cappy.
It is interesting that a dog can cheer you up; as you laugh, the creative juices start flowing again. I’m thinking of giving him a job as our Growler in Chief. Last week he accidentally took a small chunk out of Michael’s right hand when they both reached for a tennis ball at the same time. Good thing Michael throws leftie.
Cappy doesn’t know it, and wouldn’t care if he did, but he’s a therapy dog. Thanks, Capster for making Lois Geller Marketing Group’s office (a.k.a. Cappy’s Run), a happier place to work.
