Doctor Molly, Coach Willie -- My Therapy Team

This morning that I realized that really, the term "therapy dog" is redundant.  What dog-lover among us can say that our dogs aren't therapeutic by nature? The thought came to mind as I attempted to do my morning regimen of physical therapy for my bad wing -- a rotator cuff injury that resulted in adhesive capsulitis, more commonly known as "frozen shoulder."

As I lay flat on my back on my exercise mat, Molly wiggled onto my chest and covered me with kisses.  (Yes, I do let my dogs lick my face.  So sue me. )  This is her own daily regimen, as coach and cheerleader for my rehab program:  turn the discomfort into laughter, the groans into giggles.  Molly has already developed a keen sense of my own emotions and can shut off her rambunctiousness in seconds when she senses I need a few minutes of snuggling.

She has help, though.  Within a couple of minutes of Molly's participation, Shotgun Willie the tabby cat gets involved.  They team up.  As Molly stretches out on my chest, legs extended behind her and front paws on either side of my neck, Willie crawls beneath my bent knees.  There, he plays with the frayed edge of my shorts, or nips the back of my thigh, before relaxing and lying there happily, front paws curled up beneath him.

The very accessories necessary for my exercises are of great interest to my furry cheerleaders.  Some of the stretches require the use of a wooden dowel -- a dowel that now has tiny teeth marks on the end.  Prior to stretching, I warm up using an arm-bike device.  Molly is fascinated and barks at the machine as I pedal it with my hands.  Willie, ever-unflappable and at home in the world, lies so close to the pedals that they bump his whiskers when it's in motion.  Trusting cat, that one.  Watching carefully as I pedal is actually a great distraction for me as I contend with the monotony.

Eventually, despite their help, I finish my floor exercises.  As I stand to do the remaining set, Molly and Willie immediately take over the exercise mat.  The five dog beds, multiple pieces of cat furniture, and other soft places to lie down aren't nearly as appealing as the space I either want to occupy or have just relinquished.  That's just the nature of dogs -- and cats.

One Dog. One Cat.  One Exercise Mat. One Terrific Therapy Team.

My "therapy dogs" encourage me to exercise. They nurture me when necessary.  They keep me sane and lift my spirits when I've got the mean blues. They listen to my tales of woe.  They praise me with tail-wags when I've done something wonderful (like walk into a room, share a snack with them, or go into a human version of the "play-bow.")  House calls?  Heck, they're at-home specialists!  Modern medicine has yet to come up with a better all-around all-purpose aid to mental and physical health.

I think I'll go do some more exercises.  Doctor Molly?  Are you in?

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