Pet Therapy Dog: Moose to the Rescue

Mary Dell Harrington and Moose, a four-year-old chocolate Labrador, are doing some quick shopping on Larchmont Avenue, and are dressed up.

"We just came from taping a video in the city that highlights New York-Presbyterian Hospital's volunteers," says Harrington, bending down to give Moose a pat. "We were there with other pet therapy teams."

Moose is wearing his work uniform, a red vest. "He has his own ID badge and business card," says a delighted Harrington with a lilt of Fort Worth accent. She also has an ID tag but uses Moose's card.

Moose and Harrington are part of a team of volunteers who bring the healing power of dogs to patients at the White Plains hospital.

"The unit we're assigned to visit has patients with challenging psychological problems," she says.  "I see the patients' faces light up and their moods lift every time Moose walks in.  His relationship with them provides a lot of happiness."

It's a three-way street. "Moose loves the attention. And it's one of the most rewarding volunteer jobs I've ever had," she adds.

Labs in Larchmont

Harrington's Family life in Larchmont has always included chocolate Labradors, of which Moose is the third. All have been boys, related to each other, from the same Fort Worth breeder.

After graduating from the University of Texas, Harrington moved east to attend Harvard Business School, and worked in the oil industry. In Manhattan she had a career in ad sales management at  NBC, Discovery and Lifetime. She and husband Mel, whom she met at NBC, moved to Larchmont twenty years ago when their first child—son Walker, now a college sophomore—was born. Daughter Annie is about to turn 15.

Harrington confesses she always thought her next job would be "one where I can take my dog to work with me."

Pet therapy career

Two years ago, Harrington saw a Paws for Patients notice in a hospital newsletter asking for more volunteers. She signed up herself and Moose.

The training was two six-week courses through Delta Society. "The instructor said that Moose was a lively 2-year-old, but bomb-proof. Nothing rattles him."

The course included basic obedience, as well as therapy classes to help dogs desensitize to loud noises and distractions such as hospital equipment, and to make sure their owners know how to control them.

The final exam, for certification, was a written exam for Harrington, and an onsite behavioral evaluation for Moose.

The duo arrive at the hospital twice a week. "Moose really enjoys the interaction. They might not know my name, but  with the patients and staff, it's always, 'Here come Moose and Mary.'"

Then Harrington offers a tempting invitation. "If you've got some time later, come by. There's a surprise I think you'll like."

Puppy love

In her sunny backyard, Harrington throws a toy for Moose, but there's a dynamo pulling downward on his ear, and his name is Gus.

"He's 2 months old," says Harrington, smiling. "He arrived two weeks ago from a Minnesota breeder, and he's Moose's cousin."

Harrington was looking at labs online, saw that Gus shared a pedigree, "And I just had to do it."

Moose yips when Gus' razor-sharp teeth dig in, then good naturedly plays tug-of-war with the pup.

Harrington is hopeful that Gus will be a second generation of therapy dogs. "He's really sweet and fun, but we have to see how his temperament develops."

Meantime, Moose—even with Gus darting between his legs—walks obediently to Harrington's side when summoned.

"Being a therapy team is one of the best things I've ever done," says Harrington, patting Moose adoringly, and cuddling Gus on her lap. " I love the fact that I'm making it a little bit better for the patients at the hospital. But Moose makes such a big difference for them. I'm really proud of the work he does."

If you want to give it a try

More therapy teams are needed. Wondering if you and your dog could be candidates?

Contact NYPPaws@hotmail.com or (212) 746-4396. For more info, click here.