Dear EKC: Is it Weird That My Kid Prefers the Therapy Dog to the Therapist?

Dear EKC,

We moved to the Netherlands a couple years ago and while a lot has gone well, therapy has been—kind of a mixed bag for my son. It’s wild; he’s such a bright and funny kid (and deeply sensitive) but getting him to actually talk in sessions has been a challenge. 

A little context, he was diagnosed with autism last year and we’ve been trying to be more aware of the patterns that happen in his behavior. We’ve noticed that talking with new adults can be hard for him. We’ve tried different therapists who have different approaches, and while some have helped a bit, I usually feel like we’re just going around in circles. There’s a lot of “I don’t know” in the air, if you know what I mean. 

We just started at a new practice and they have a therapy dog, Rupert. I wasn’t sure about it but he’s a kid, he likes dogs, so as long as therapy was also still happening I was happy for the dog to be there. 

But the thing is, my son absolutely lights up when Rupert walks in. He talks about Rupert all week. He’s drawn some pictures of him. I’ve also started noticing that he’s way calmer in the waiting room and actually wants to go to therapy. Sometimes he even talks directly to Rupert about his day, even before the session starts. And they go in and his therapist has told me that he doesn’t always talk too much to her—but he’s always down for a chat with Ru. 

I’m really excited that he’s making progress and it’s started showing at home, too. Even being so excited to see Rupert in general is progress. But part of me wonders if this is just a distraction from the therapy he’s “supposed” to be doing. At the same time, maybe it’s actually helping him open up in a way we haven’t seen before.

So I guess I just wanted to get your thoughts. Can animals really play a role in therapy? Are they just there for comfort, or is there something more to it, especially for kids like mine? 

-Curious and Cautiously Hopeful

Dear Curious, 

Oh I’m so glad you wrote in about this one. It’s one of our favorite topics at EKC, especially as we have our own therapy dog: Cherry! What you’re experiencing there isn’t just a coincidence. We see it ourselves all the time and it’s very real. 

Animals are our colleagues. In sessions, they just bring a totally new dimension to the therapeutic space. They operate so much in the moment and without layers of judgement, social norms, etc. Seeing how they respond to energy and different situations can bring attention to things we (over) thinking humans might miss. 

Cherry has been offering this insight for years now. She’s often just sleeping in session, which tells us that the space feels safe enough to relax in. Sometimes she does get up and sits next to someone, or she’s positions herself right in the middle of people in family meetings. It’s incredible to follow the cues. 

She’s given me signals when it’s not feeling safe, for example. Kids with a lot of impulsivity might need a redirect and focus on regulation so they can feel more grounded. It’s also worth it to mention that as therapists, we can recognize when our clients just need to be all over the place without an adult telling them to stop. In these cases, we’d bring Cherry to another office room so we can make sure that everyone’s safe and doing what they need to be doing. It’s a balance, and one that a good therapist can sense. 

Cherry also helps with client motivation. She perks right up when the hallway door opens and she hears (or smells?) a client that she knows coming in. The way she dances down the hall to greet them seems to help everyone feel special. It’s a great welcome to the therapy session! I often joke that clients come to see Cherry and not me, and if that’s the truth I’m okay with it. Being greeted and unconditionally loved by such a little fluff ball is the best. 

For many TCKs, connection has been interrupted more than once. These kids experience a lot of goodbyes, moves, new schools, and new languages. That can make it tougher to relax enough to trust new people. A pet can soften that first step. It’s often easier to connect with an animal than a person, and that connection can extend outward over time. 

Animals can also be a part of exposure work. If a child has had a difficult or frightening experience with animals, therapy can include learning how to read a dog’s body language and how to approach safely to rebuild confidence at their own pace. 

For neurodivergent kids especially, expression doesn’t always happen in a straight line. Some children will talk to the dog before they’re ready to talk to the therapist, and that still counts. We even have a dog sticker on the door that says “tell me everything,” because sometimes that’s exactly what happens. Without the pressure of complex social cues, communication can feel easier and more accessible. 

Animals also support language development. Programs where kids read aloud to dogs show that when there’s no fear of being corrected or judged, kids are more willing to try and keep going after they make a mistake. 

And, of course, there’s the physical side of it. Tactile stimulation absolutely counts, here. Petting a soft, calm dog can be regulating all on its own. There’s research showing that time with dogs or cats can lower stress levels, even in a high-pressure environment. For a child in therapy, that calming effect can make it easier to settle into the work. 

It sounds like your son’s making a good connection with Rupert—and through him, with his new therapist. It’s much more of a bridge than a “distraction.” I’d say that your son’s not avoiding therapy by talking to a dog, he’s finding his way into it at his own pace. 

Warmly, 

Kate Berger

EKC Therapist