Big sloppy kisses
Therapy dogs deliver the best medicine
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Cisco the therapy dog gives Helen Danielson a kiss during his recent visit to an adult day program in Rutland with owner Lorene McLaughlin, who is holding his leash. Vyto Starinskas |
Toolbox
By JAMES ASKEW
Correspondent - Published: February 1, 2009
At first glance, Cisco – formally known as Mountain Lake's Apache Chief — can certainly seem imposing. Standing nearly 3 feet tall and weighing 160 pounds, he has a head the size of a basketball, and his mouth, when he yawns, is like a gaping cavern on the crest of a hairy mountain. He is a Leonberger, a cross between a St. Bernard, Newfoundland and Great Pyrenees, originating from Leonberg, Germany, and bred, as the name suggests, to look like a lion.
Leaning against the leg of his owner, Lorene McLaughlin from Castleton, Cisco's head is higher than McLaughlin's waist, and the thin leash that tethers human to dog appears to be nothing more than a polite affectation, a useless accessory, like tying a string to the bumper of a car.
Yet, far from being a threat, Cisco is the epitome of the gentle giant. His gaze moves lazily over the activity in the room around him, and when yet another hand reaches out to pat his head, rub his back or stroke his face, he turns to look upon this latest visitor with that sleepy-eyed sincerity that has long made the canine endearing.
Cisco, along with five of his closest doggie friends, has come for his regular visit at a day program for senior citizens, located off Stratton Road in Rutland, that provides companionship, hot lunches, crafts and other activities. A bingo game was evidently in session before the dogs arrived, but the players — about 20 of them — have abandoned their boards and pushed their chairs away from the tables, the better able to greet their guests.
The day program's participants range in age from 55 to the eldest, Ed Raymond, turning 99 at the end of January.
Their visitors are therapy dogs whose owners volunteer to take them to hospitals, schools, nursing homes, libraries, prisons and anywhere else the therapeutic power of animals is seen to have an effect. Unlike service dogs that do a specific task for their owners, therapy dogs simply comfort others with their presence.
Once a month, a few of the roughly 40 members of the all-volunteer Caring Canines Therapy Dog Club of Southern Vermont bring their dogs to spend an hour or more with the Rutland day program's participants.
Similar groups include Therapy Dogs of Vermont and Vermont Pet Partners, the state affiliate of the national nonprofit Delta Society.
Kept always on their leashes, Cisco and his friends are led from one table to the next, circling the room again and again, so that each person has a chance to cuddle, pet, pat and rub. There is an indecipherable din of voices, the rupture of laughter and the occasional bark of a dog.
Thomas Jefferson, a white and orange English pointer known to all as Jeff, is in the middle of the room with a treat balanced on the tip of his nose, his eyes crossed, patiently awaiting the command of his owner, Pat Hannegan. A round of applause erupts as the command is given and Jeff deftly flips his nose and catches the treat in his mouth.
"It lightens everybody's mood," says Robin Alt, the intake coordinator for PACE VT, a nonprofit that provides direct care for the elderly and whose clients attend the InterAge Adult Day Program.
"It brightens spirits when the dogs come. Everybody can relate to a dog they had, a dog in their past. Some of the quieter people talk a little more."
Studies have shown that pet therapy can, among other things, relieve stress and lower blood pressure in older adults and enhance the self-esteem and confidence of children.
Dogs aren't the only animals used. Cats, rabbits, birds, even guinea pigs and ponies participate in pet therapy, according to Julie Noyes of Montpelier, a member of Vermont Pet Partners. She says the group and its parent organization don't limit themselves to dogs.
Noyes' dog, Maggie May, is an American Staffordshire terrier, commonly mistaken for a pit bull terrier, and Noyes says part of her motivation to register Maggie May as a therapy dog was to help dispel the pit bull's bad reputation. Any breed can be a therapy dog, Noyes says; it depends entirely on the dog's personality and the way it is raised.
"You really can't train your dog to be petted by a bunch of kids," she says.
Helen Danielson is a client of InterAge and comes in every day by bus. She lives with her son and daughter-in-law outside Rutland and is unreserved with her affection for the dogs. She has a dog at home, she says, a small mixed breed.
"They own the dog," Danielson says of her son and daughter-in-law, "but you'd think I owned the dog, because the moment they step out of the door, I am there and he is right at my feet, protecting me. You can't top that."
As the dogs continue their rotations, Danielson is soon treated to the slobbering affections of a black Lab named Baxter. Small for his breed and wearing a bright red vest that says "Pet Me, I Am Friendly," Baxter is one of those effervescent dogs that seems to have had his wires crossed — the more excited he gets, the more his body wags and wiggles.
With Baxter seated at her feet, the dog doing all he can to keep his tail to the ground, Danielson leans over and wraps him in a hearty bear hug, turning her head away and laughing as Baxter twists and wriggles in an effort to lick her face.
"As part of his training," explains Linda Shelvey, Baxter's owner and vice president of Caring Canines, "we would take him down to the Rutland mall and walk him around. It is a good way to socialize him."
Kelly Kirby, president of the club and the owner of a slender tan collie named Shane, explains that the animals go through rigorous testing before they can become therapy dogs. The training and tests include basic obedience, such as "sit," "stay" and "come," as well as a number of exercises to see how the dog handles certain situations.
The dog's owners are responsible for all training, Kirby explains, while each of the groups performs its own testing for new and existing members. She says there is no set schedule, but most groups retest their dogs about every two years.
"Some of the exercises," Kirby says "are being petted by several people; they have to tolerate that. They have to walk through a crowd without getting distracted. We introduce them to the medical equipment, like walkers and wheelchairs, and make sure they are not threatened by those things."
Additional tests involve several people hugging the dog at once and pulling its tail, loud noises, people screaming and, of course, interaction with other dogs.
"Some dogs don't pass," notes McLaughlin, adding that sometimes the dogs are fine but it's the owner-handler who isn't. She says that along with having a well-trained, even-tempered dog, it is important that the owner enjoy the interactions as well.
When asked why she volunteers, McLaughlin smiles and says, "You see their faces. You see the look in their eyes. It gives you an introduction to them to drum up a conversation."
Asked the same question, Kirby doesn't answer right away, but later, on her way out, she turns and says, "I know that if I am ever in a nursing home, I want a therapy dog to come and visit me."

