There is a new, rather small member of the team at my therapy practice in Wimbledon. Lennie is a six-month-old Cavapoo and, when it suits the client and the work, she will be joining some sessions, as well as accompanying people who choose walk-and-talk therapy on Wimbledon Common.
At present, Lennie is still very much a therapy dog in training. She is learning to settle quietly, to accept that not every visitor has come solely to see her, and that a therapy session is not an invitation to empty the contents of my wastepaper basket across the floor.
She is getting there.
Cavapoos are a cross between a Cavalier King Charles Spaniel and a Poodle. They are low-shedding and often described as hypoallergenic, although no dog can be guaranteed entirely allergy-free. More relevant to her future role, Lennie has a naturally sociable, gentle temperament, and she is becoming increasingly good at simply being present in a room without needing to be the centre of it.
Why have a therapy dog at all?
There is something particular about having an animal in the room. A dog does not need an explanation. She does not mind silence, is not embarrassed by tears, and has no view on whether we have expressed ourselves well or badly.
For some people, that changes the atmosphere of the room. Coming to therapy can feel exposing, especially at the start, when a client is still working out whether it is safe to be honest with someone they barely know. An animal offers a different kind of company while that trust is building. Stroking a dog, noticing her breathing, or simply having her lying nearby can give a client something steady to hold onto during a conversation that feels far from steady.
There is a growing body of interest in animal-assisted therapy and the part animals may play in supporting emotional wellbeing. Contact with an animal has, for some people, been associated with lower stress and anxiety, a greater sense of calm, and an easier route into connecting with another person in the room. An animal can also offer a point of grounding when feelings become difficult to manage.
None of this means Lennie will be doing the therapy. That remains my job and always will. Nor does her presence suit everyone. Some people are frightened of dogs, allergic to them, simply do not like them, or would find a dog distracting rather than settling. Lennie will only ever be part of a session when a client actively wants her there.
A different kind of presence in the room
One of the things I find interesting about dogs is how quickly they bring us into the present moment.
Therapy involves a great deal of thinking. We think about our relationships, our history, the patterns we keep returning to and the reasons we respond to people the way we do. There is real value in that thinking. But it is possible to become so occupied with understanding a feeling that we drift away from actually feeling it.
An animal interrupts that quite simply, without meaning to.
A dog resting her head against a knee, stretching, sighing, or falling asleep in the middle of an important sentence can be surprisingly grounding. It is a small reminder that alongside all the thinking, there is also a body, sitting in a room, in the present moment.
In couple work, this can shift the atmosphere in a slightly different way. Difficult conversations between partners can become intense and narrowly focused on each other. Another living creature, quietly present in the room, can soften that intensity by a fraction. I would never use Lennie to help a couple avoid something difficult. But sometimes a small reduction in intensity is what allows two people to stay in the room with each other rather than retreat.
Walk-and-talk therapy on Wimbledon Common
Lennie will also sometimes join walk-and-talk sessions on Wimbledon Common.
For some clients, talking while walking feels more possible than sitting opposite a therapist. Side by side, rather than face to face, the intensity of direct eye contact eases. Movement itself can also help, particularly for people who feel restless, stuck, or overwhelmed by sitting still with difficult material.
Being outdoors adds something further. Away from the more formal setting of a consulting room, thoughts can arrive in a different order and at a different pace. A dog alongside us tends to make the whole experience feel more natural, less like an appointment and more like simply being somewhere together.
Walk-and-talk therapy is not a better version of therapy in a room. It is a different one, and for some people, it works particularly well.
Lennie is entirely optional
It’s important to be clear: you do not have to have Lennie anywhere near your session.
My practice continues exactly as before for anyone who prefers a dog-free space, and if Lennie’s presence is ever an option worth considering, we would discuss it beforehand. Your preference always comes first.
She is also, as mentioned, still learning. Becoming a reliable therapy dog takes time, and I want her presence to add something genuinely useful to the work rather than being simply a pleasant distraction.
For now, she is practising.
And judging by her ability to sleep peacefully while quite a lot of life happens around her, I suspect she may already understand something worth knowing about the value of simply being present.
If you are curious about walk-and-talk therapy or would like to know more about how Lennie is involved in sessions, do get in touch. I am always happy to talk through what would suit you best before we begin any work together.
