Today, something interesting happened in our house. I was lying on the border between the kitchen and the living room, pretending not to listen (but of course listening carefully 🐾), when I overheard my owners talking with a family friend.
She explained that her 7-year-old son is showing clear signs of ADHD. I didn’t know what “ADHD” meant* before, but judging by the way they spoke, it wasn’t something easy. The boy isn’t just active — he’s uncontrollably active. He doesn’t listen to his parents or teachers, constantly talks in class, interrupts, fights with other kids, and believes everyone around him is “foolish.”
The school advised the parents to seek psychological help immediately. My owner remarked that when their kids were growing up, the “treatment” for such behaviour was a good spanking with a belt. Radical, yes, but, he said, “it worked.”
Then my lady owner, and she doesn’t mess around, reminded him of a story from 26 years ago, when the family had just moved to England. Back then their youngest son (also seven) told her he’d call the police if she ever tried to spank him. She calmly told him to pack his things and make the call from the street. Needless to say, he changed his mind rather quickly. For a while, it worked well 😊
At that point, I gave my owner a meaningful look and a quiet “woof,” reminding him about something important – our website and… “dog therapy.”
He got the hint. He suggested to the family friend:
“Why not let your son spend some time with our Vanya — our big, gentle Landseer? It’s not a miracle cure, but it can help.Vanya is really great with the kinds”
Her face lit up. She said she had actually read something about how interaction with animals can support children with ADHD. She gratefully accepted the offer.
🐕 My First Steps as a “Therapy Dog”
I’ll be honest — I don’t have much experience working with children. Yes, they love me. And I used to accept everything they were doing with me.
But last year, something special happened that I’ll never forget.
My lady owner and I were walking along the coast when a woman and a little boy came toward us. The boy had just come out of the cold sea, wearing only swimming trunks and a towel fluttering in the icy wind. He looked like a tiny, shivering chick.
As he passed me, he suddenly reached out and hugged me, just for a second. But that was enough. I felt how cold and tense he was, and I stood very still so he wouldn’t slip. He pressed himself against my warm fur and stayed like that for a few moments. His shivering lips stopped trembling. The blue tint in his cheeks faded. Then he gave me one last squeeze — a silent “thank you” — and ran to the car to change.
I stood there a little longer, thinking. I hadn’t done anything special, really — but it felt wonderful to know that simply being there had helped someone feel safe and warm.
🌿 A New Role
That memory made it easy to accept this new challenge. I’m ready to help this boy not with physical warmth this time, but with something less visible — mental and emotional support.
As soon as I lay down by the desk, my owner and “the other Vanya” (the one inside the computer 💻) finished putting together a preliminary activity plan for our future sessions.
I liked what I heard.
Especially the part where the computer Vanya emphasized:
🐾 “Don’t overload the boy… or the dog. And don’t forget to reward the dog too.”
How could I not love that?
Next time, my owner promised to explain my “job description” in detail. He also told me that he sent the boy’s parents a questionnaire to better understand what might be triggering his behaviour. Based on their answers, they’ll fine-tune the activities for our sessions.
And of course, my owner will keep careful notes on what happens each week.
📖 So stay tuned. This is just the beginning of our story.
*ADHD, or attention-deficit/hyperactivity disorder
