Born on 14 February, yes, Valentine’s Day, in Molbergen, Germany, Scooby was practically destined for love, chaos, and cuddles. He is a self-proclaimed Goldendoodle. Bright and curious, he now lives in Switzerland, where he enjoys long walks, bodies of water, people, and the occasional nap.
Scooby, what made you want to become a therapy dog?
Honestly, that was my owner’s dream, not mine. She had this lovely plan for us to visit hospitals, care homes, and libraries to give children the confidence to read and help people feel more connected. I admire that. But me? I was more of a “let’s chase those cats and see what happens” kind of dog. Sitting quietly while humans talk about their feelings? That’s hard when there’s a squirrel right there.
How was your puppy training?
Oh boy… there were treats, so I was interested for about three seconds. Then they wanted me to “stay still” and “ignore distractions.” The world is full of distractions, birds, smells….. I had several trainers, and they were patient, but deep down I knew: I was born to be free, not to recite commands. Some dogs have healing paws; I have muddy ones.
How did it feel when you didn’t make the final cut?
At first, I thought I’d failed. My owner looked sad, and I dislike it when she is upset. But then she hugged me and said, “You’re perfect just as you are.” That’s when I realised something huge: sometimes the best kind of therapy is just being loved for who you are, not for what you achieve. And let’s be honest, I still bring comfort.
Let’s talk about the rocks.
Ah yes, the great snack mistake of my life. One day, I found this shiny rock. It smelled delicious and I thought, “Mmm… crunchy.” Next thing I know, I’m at the vet, hooked up to tubes, getting more attention than a celebrity pup. Five days, belly rubs galore, everyone calling me “brave boy.” I even won Dog of the Month. I wouldn’t recommend eating rocks… but I do recommend learning from your mistakes. And, you know, playing the sympathy card just a little.
Did that change how you see life?
Oh absolutely. That whole adventure taught me to live in the moment. Dogs are pretty good at that anyway. The past is gone, the future hasn’t happened, and now smells amazing. Also important to note: sticks over rocks, every time.
Sometimes humans swallow things that aren’t good for them — bad thoughts, worries, unhealthy relationships. Any advice?
Mmm, yes. Happens all the time. My advice? Spit it out. If it doesn’t feel right, drop it, shake it off, wag, and walk away. Don’t keep chewing on something that hurts. Life’s too short to swallow negativity. Plus, it gives you a metaphorical headache and tummy ache.
You might not be an official therapy dog, but you still help people, don’t you?
I do. I help my owner every day. She says I make her notice God’s handiwork, the light on Mont Blanc, the birds narrating everything, and the pure dopamine joy of being pulled on walks. I may not have a therapy badge, but I’ve got a big heart and a tail that works overtime. Sometimes the best comfort comes from just sitting quietly next to someone and existing together. Also, licking tears, I’m very good at that.
If you could tell humans one secret about dogs that they never seem to get, what would it be?
We don’t care about being called a “good boy.” What we actually crave is your calm presence; your energy speaks way louder than your words ever could. When you’re anxious or stressed, we feel that instantly, no matter how many times you say “good boy.” Talk to us like we’re actually part of your world. Play is how we learn you and how you learn us. So skip the praise, give us genuine connection, eye contact, and steady love instead. That’s what we understand best.
Any final message you’d like to share?
I learned that not everything that looks good is good for you. I also learned that healing takes time and that it’s okay to let others take care of you. Don’t chase perfection, chase joy. Take naps without guilt. Wag when you can. Forgive quickly, love loudly, and if life gives you rocks… don’t eat them.