Pit Bulls as Therapy Dogs

This article was spotted by a friend on Twitter. It's worth sharing. We've moved toward being a culture that is afraid of certain kinds of dogs and forget that by in large, the problem is with how people train and treat dogs. Check out this story about pit bulls as therapy dogs and keep it in mind the next time you encounter breed specific legislation in your local communities. (read more about BSLs here and here.

Of particular interest, by the way, is that breed specific legislation in Bermuda would make me a restricted dog. Can you imagine someone wanting to restrict Magnolia Wigglesworth? That's ridiculous. Check it out here.

AUSTIN (KXAN) - In the gymnasium at north Austin's Gullett Elementary School, a young boy sits on the floor with a book in his lap. The child is trying to sharpen his reading skills and he has a helper. Actually, he has two helpers: a woman who is volunteering her time and her dog.

Across the room, Patti Brauss, a 14-year veteran physical education teacher, watches with a grin on her face.

"There are kids who absolutely light up when they see a dog and that builds bridges sometimes if there's a stressful situation in the classroom," said Brauss, "or a skill the child can't do, and by being able to share that with a dog or be motivated by the dog, we can't do that as humans. It's the power of the petting."

On the gym floor another dog rolls over on her back and accepts some of that petting from another student.

"I think she's precious," the child said. "She's precious; she's a precious dog."

Nearby, another girl bends down and kisses a dog on the head.

Nearby, another girl bends down and kisses a dog on the head.

It's not just the kids that are getting into it all. Owner Ashley Arkin brought her dog to the gym.

"It's that emotional connection that just breaks you down and brings you back to your primal self," she said. "I love it; I love helping other people and the best thing I can do is help others with my dog."

The thing is, though, Arkin's dog is not just any dog. He's a pit bull dog! That's right, the breed that many people condemn as vicious and uncontrollable. Type "pit bull attacks" into Google and you'll be deluged with over 2,000,000 hits. Pit bull owner Lydia Zaidman begs to differ.

"They love people; they're extremely tolerant of people." Zaidman said. "Of course, each individual one has to be temperament tested and each one is an individual like any other dog. But in general, they temperament test very high. They really love people; they like to be around people and so they do really well."

Click here for the rest of the article

Memorial

Yesterday afternoon I had a bit of free time between my therapy dog duties. The human and I bundled up and headed out into Harvard Square for a walk. As is frequently the case during the work week, the human let me lead. I spend long hours doing things that he asks of me in the office. In return for my hard work, I get to pick the direction, pace, and flavor of our walks.

Yesterday I brought the human into Harvard Yard. Despite the cold temperature, it was perfect squirrel hunting weather. The snow had mostly melted exposing a treasure trove of acorns. The muddy squares of grass on campus were too enticing to the squirrels: despite the cold they were out scurrying around having an afternoon meal.

I coaxed the human into a run and we were charging back and forth across the lawns. We were hot in pursuit of a squirrel--I followed him right up onto the steps of Memorial Chapel. This of course created a scene. Dog running, human following, and squirrel scrambling. A little mop of a terrier walked by and got super excited. I forgot about my quarry and visited with the dog.

Noticing we were surrounded by police, the human remembered that there was a vigil going on inside of the chapel. He asked me to have some decorum. After a bit of barking, I settled down and complied with his request.

A woman walked by and then turned around and walked right up to me. I wagged my tail with all my might as she asked the human if she could pet me. He said yes--and with that I was up off my hind end and onto my toes as I stretched toward the woman who so obviously wanted to say hello. We exchanged a lot of kisses, wiggles, and pets. It was great.

"What kind of dog are you?" the woman said.

"She is an Australian Blue Heeler/Basset Hound mix," said my human.

"Is she a rescue dog?"

"Yes," said my human. "She was dropped off at a shelter when she and her siblings were just a day old by a man who wasn't willing or able to care for them. Her mother had heart worm and they were all likely to be put down. An organization called Peace and Paws heard about their plight and saved the whole family. They moved to New Hampshire, were nursed back to health, and adopted."

"She must have been well cared for--even when she was one day old. So many rescue dogs can be scared. This one isn't scared at all."

My human smiled. I was well cared for by the rescue organization. I also was (and still am!) a very timid dog. The human smiled because he knew how hard we've worked together so that most of my interactions go like this.

My human thanked the woman for stopping to pet me.

"No, thank you" she said. "This made my day."

The police on the steps of the chapel were smiling too, talking about the wiggling squirrel-chasing dog who was licking everyone who wanted a canine kiss.

It was a fitting day to do this. Back when I was just a few months old I stumbled through Harvard Yard on a warm autumn afternoon. A man with a dark wooden cane came walking by. It was perfect because I was just starting to be exposed and socialized to all sorts of different situations that caused me distress. I was scared of the cane and more than a little scared of the man.

My human picked me up and offered me some reassuring words. The man with the dark wooden cane kept coming a little closer. I tried to burrow into my human so I could hide.

The man, as many have since done, asked about me.

"I'm a psychologist," my human said. "This little one is training to be a therapy dog that joins me in my office." There was a few moments of conversation about my journey from Kentucky to New Hampshire and now Massachusetts.

The man asked first if he might try to pet me. My human nodded and his hand gently extended toward me. I wagged just the tip of my tail as he scratched a bit behind my ear.

"Thanks for stopping by and saying hello," my human said.

"No, thank you," the man with the cane spoke. "I hope you two have a wonderful life together. We need people who care and show compassion."

Yesterday, inside the doors of Memorial Chapel, Rev. Peter Gomes body was inside a casket. The Harvard Community had gathered all day to hold a vigil honoring his life.

What I had not known that summer day was the man who stopped and scratched my ear was the Reverend.

Thank you, Peter.

My First Haiku!

I'm just so excited this morning. One of my fans on Facebook took the time to write a haiku about me. That's right--I got a poem written about me just in time for Valentine's Day!

Maggie and her sticks

squirrels running in immense fear

it all comes from love

Jodi Johnson-Waddell

Greatest Discover, Ever. Really.

So I've been meaning to tell you all about my most recent discover. It's the greatest discover ever. Really. I don't know why I ever noticed these things. To what am I referring? Windows. That's right. Windows. Did you all know about them? A couple nights ago after work we were walking back to the car. I've probably sniffed right past this spot a good 100 or so times in my life but I never actually bothered to look up. My nose is usually down to the ground savoring all the ground-level aromas.

So here it is, nine at night, and I finally lift my head up and discover this thing called a window. It just wasn't any window. It was the window on the left of the picture that belongs to the restaurant that I'm told is named Arrow Street Crepes. It was also a very special window as inside of it I discovered this wonderful woman who was munching a crepe. This was clearly a moment of two lovers meeting for the first time. I looked up, noticed her, and tilted me head. She looked down at me and smiled. I started wagging my tail. First I just fluttered the tip of my tail. I wasn't sure what this whole human behind the window thing was. As soon as she started smiling at me I went all out wagging my tail with all all the gusto I could muster. The woman smiled even more, so I wagged even more.

We stood there for a few moments--human and dog look at each other and showing each other how happy we were to see each other. I've got no real way to know what she was thinking: she never came out behind the glass. The only thing I do know is that when I took the time out of my sniffing to look up she happened to take the same moment to look down from what she was eating and we both made a connection. It couldn't me more simple than that--two creatures reaching out and making a connection that brings a moment of happiness into the world.

When's the last time you looked up?