ABSTRACT

When I was writing my latest book, Transformation of the Heart: Tales of the Profound Impact Therapy Dogs Have on Their Handlers (Pichot, 2009b), I was struck by how many times therapy dog handlers told me something deeply meaningful about their own dog’s imperfections or about the oddities in their dog’s breed, only to say quickly, “But you can’t write that!” These disclosures were always after significant prodding and persistent questioning in an effort to follow trains of thought to a very personal level. These disclosures typically had an accidental feel, like the handler had been seduced into unwittingly, temporarily lowering his or her guard. It became clear that therapy dogs’ imperfections were something that were hidden and carried a degree of shame. I heard repeatedly from handlers that they feared their dog would not pass the therapy dog exam, for their own dog never seemed as perfect as those around them. Even when handlers begin to talk about their dogs’ imperfections, the conversations frequently take on a superficial feel, similar to a job candidate answering an interview question about his or her greatest weakness, stating that being overly thorough and always being early are his or her primary weaknesses. Reality is, therapy dogs are dogs, and dogs (similar to people) have f laws. No person has the necessary skills to work in every situation, and the same is true for any dog.