Therapy Bits

Violet has given us a great quote to work with this week.

The quote she provided us with is:

“A dog has lots of friends because it wags its tail, not its tongue”

Anna Faversham

And here is my response…

❤ ❤

Wag the Dog | Thru Violet’s Lentz

The bell above the pet store door chimed softly as the little boy stepped inside, his hand wrapped tightly around his mother’s fingers. The room smelled like clean sawdust and warm fur, and the air hummed with barks, yips, and the low thump of wagging tails against kennel walls. His eyes grew wide, taking it all in, his heart beating fast with a feeling he didn’t yet have words for.

He had been thinking about this day for weeks. At night, he imagined a dog curled at the foot of his bed, a loyal shadow that would follow him through the house and into the backyard. But now that he was here, the choice felt big—bigger than he expected.

They walked slowly past the cages. A tiny terrier bounced like a spring, desperate for attention. A sleepy old beagle barely lifted his head. The boy smiled at them all, but something inside him stayed quiet, as if it were waiting.

Then he saw the lab.

The dog was sitting calmly, honey-colored fur glowing under the fluorescent lights. When the boy stopped in front of the kennel, the lab stood up, his entire back end wiggling with happiness. His tail wagged so hard it thumped against the bars, a steady, hopeful rhythm. Dark, gentle eyes met the boy’s, and in that moment, the noise of the store seemed to fade.

“Can I meet him?” the boy whispered, afraid to break whatever magic had settled between them.

The employee opened the door, and the lab stepped out, padding over with an easy confidence. He sniffed the boy’s sneakers, then looked up as if to say, There you are. When the boy reached out his small hand, the lab leaned in, warm and solid, and gave it a happy lick.

The boy laughed—a soft, surprised sound—and dropped to his knees. The lab’s tail wagged even faster now, and he licked the boy’s hand again, then his cheek, sealing the decision without a single word.

The boy wrapped his arms around the dog’s neck, burying his face in that clean, comforting fur. He felt safe. Chosen. Like he had found not just a dog, but a friend who had been waiting just for him.

His mother wiped at her eyes and smiled. She already knew.

And as they walked out of the store together, the bell chiming once more, the boy held the leash with both hands—carefully, proudly—while the lab walked beside him, tail wagging, ready to go home.