Through Ivy’s Eyes ~ All the Right Stuff

For the record, I’m not sure why every dog thinks they have all the right stuff to be a therapy dog. It takes more than looking the part or making a fashion statement. We are not accessories. For one, you’ll never catch me wearing a turtle neck sweater or hiding in someone’s handbag. Where is the dignity in that? How can a therapy dog spring into action if he or she has their legs tangled up in a rhinestone and sequin-covered leash?

A therapy dog needs the poise of a flight attendant, the patience of a Disney theme park character, and the tenacity of a Conservative on the View. I’ve read about a training program that certifies dogs. It was a good program, that is until the lawyers got involved, and miniature horses and lizards were allowed to join. Now it’s a free-for-all.

Don’t get me wrong, I like bearded dragons, some of my best friends are reptiles, but I wouldn’t put the safety of a room full of pre-schoolers in the care of a chameleon. When things get dicey, no one will be able to find it. Don’t get me started on the boa’s; they’re snakes. On some days, they are all hugs, and the next thing you know, they are lying on the floor trying to size you up. Never trust a snake.

Back to the question, what makes for a great therapy dog? It helps if you can identify the things that can harm your person and be able to act decisively to neutralize the threat. For example, I can hear a box of ice cream opening from three rooms away. If I don’t intervene, who will? I certainly can’t trust him to…