Therapy Dog with a BlogPosted by Tara on Oct 11, 2015 in Grief and Loss, Therapy Dog Blog | 1 comment
HI! My name’s Oliver. Everyone calls me Ollie. I’m a therapy dog. Well, I’m training to be a therapy dog. My job is to help people who are sad or afraid. You can pet me or I can just sit near you when you talk to my mom.
I really like meeting new people. Mostly big people. Little kids kind of scare me, but I’m learning to be braver. Lots of people who come to see my mom are scared, too. Sometimes they are sad or mad. It’s ok though, because my mom likes to help. She told me lots of times.
I really like helping, too. I know what it’s like to feel alone and sad and really scared.
My birth mommy was rescued from a puppy mill just a little before I was born. I have two brothers and two sisters. I haven’t seen them since I was very tiny. Sometimes I get sad about that.
My birth mommy was really sick so I didn’t get to be with her after I was born. There was a nice brown and black mommy doggy who fed us while we were at the foster house. She had tiny fur, not big fluffy fur like mine, but she made sure my tummy was full and my nose was warm when I got sleepy. I was scared sometimes, but my brothers and sisters were there and we’d snuggle.
One day a lady came with some friends. They hugged and played with me and the lady let me sleep tucked into her neck. It was real cozy. She was so nice, but then she took me away from my brothers and sisters.
I was mostly scared and felt sad because I didn’t have my birth mommy, my brown and black mommy, or my brothers and sisters.
Now I love my new mommy and get so excited when I see her. I sleep next to her and she rubs my tummy a lot. My mommy bought me a soft bed, some puppy snacks, a squishy giraffe and a squeaky pig. Even though those were nice things, I was still scared sometimes.
Then, I met my new big brother, Murphy. He’s smaller than me now, but I don’t think he knows that. He’s 9 years old and really fun to play with. He’s got big fluffy fur like mine. He’s teaching me lots of stuff…like wiping my face on the carpet after I take a drink, and snorting when I want a snack. He taught me how to growl at the UPS man and not fall off the deck anymore. He’s awesome, and I love him. Even when he’s kinda grouchy. The puppy doctor calls him “the grumpy old man”. I think it’s funny. He doesn’t.
So when you come visit my mom and I at work, it’s ok if you’re sad or scared. We can help. You don’t have to be sad, alone, or have secrets anymore. We will listen real good, be very nice, and you can feel better. Is your story is kind of sad like mine? I’ll sit right next to you, if you want me to, until you feel better.
P.S. I’m learning to be a good therapy dog for you, but “drop it” is really, really hard. Everything tastes so good. So, if I take your pen or one of your flip flops, it’s hard for me to give back right now. Mom’s real sorry.