This
is Moxie
Moxie
is an AKC Canine Good Citizen and a trained therapy dog. She goes to
hospitals and other places to give comfort to people who are ill or anxious.
That being said....
EVERY time I sit down in the condo, Moxie sits at my feet.
Most times
sitting ON my feet.
If I go lay on my kitchen cot, she comes over
and lays by me.
Sit on the porch, she sits on my foot.
Moxie......what are you trying to tell me? Is my stress and anxiety
showing? Do I need this much therapy??
Moxie
the therapy dog. Freely giving therapy.
Sometimes she looks at me as only my Dog Therapist would, and I wait for her to ask, “Tell me, Lorry... how does that make you feel?”
Sometimes she looks at me as only my Dog Therapist would, and I wait for her to ask, “Tell me, Lorry... how does that make you feel?”
When
Bill takes Moxie out in town, she always wears her orange Therapy Dog
jacket - mostly to keep the sun off her skin, but also for
visibility in the evenings.
The
other night we went to the bar at the resort next door. Bill got up
to play banjo with the band, so I held Moxie's leash while she sat quietly along the wall.
The room was noisy with talking and drinking - a mix of boat people, tourists and locals. While Bill was playing his song a woman from the table nearest me hopped off her stool and came wobbling toward me. Looking like she'd had a drink or two, she smiled kindly and pointed to Moxie and said, “Is that a service dog?”
The room was noisy with talking and drinking - a mix of boat people, tourists and locals. While Bill was playing his song a woman from the table nearest me hopped off her stool and came wobbling toward me. Looking like she'd had a drink or two, she smiled kindly and pointed to Moxie and said, “Is that a service dog?”
Without
thinking, partly because it's hard for me to hear in places like
that and partly because I get a lot of social anxiety about knowing what to say to people when they talk to me, I just blurted out, “Yes, she is.”
"Wait...Service Dog??", I thought to myself, "She's not a Service Dog, she's a THERAPY Dog." Ugh....now I AM
stressed.
The
look on the woman's face turned quickly from curiosity about Moxie,
to sympathy....for ME! "Awwwww", she said and smiled knowingly at me.
I had just given her the impression I needed to take
a dog with me everywhere for some hidden medical or psychological reason. Now...I felt guilt about taking unwarranted sympathy from her.
(Great....stress, anxiety, now guilt, too!)
(Great....stress, anxiety, now guilt, too!)
I thought I needed to say something quickly to fix this, but the
first thing out of my mouth was, “Oh no.....this is HIS dog!”
Pointing toward Bill up at the mic playing and singing.
Of course that only caused the woman's sympathetic stare to turn immediately Bill's way. I could guess she was trying to figure out why he needed a service dog as she watched him performing on stage
Of course that only caused the woman's sympathetic stare to turn immediately Bill's way. I could guess she was trying to figure out why he needed a service dog as she watched him performing on stage
Ugh,
I've done it again. ARRRRRGH!!
I
figured I needed to make this right and grabbed the woman as she turned to get back to her friends.
“Excuse
me", tapping her arm, "she's not a Service Dog.... a Therapy Dog. Moxie is a Therapy Dog. She goes to hospitals and
places like that to give comfort to people who are sick, or sad
…...OR have stress and social anxiety (like me?).“ At that, the woman smiled again and said,
“Oh, ok”, not seeming to care much anymore as she was already heading over to order another rum drink.
Taking a deep breath, shaking my head and feeling like my usual socially awkward self, I looked down at the pup. Moxie got up, turned a circle and sat down on my foot.
Yeah, good girl, Moxie...
