The Critter Lady

2009-10-21

Today, I met the Critter Lady. She was not what her e-mail moniker might imply. Tall, rugged, embracing, convincing, the critter lady is Kathy Wilson. By all accounts, she is the physical education teacher at Locust Corner Elementary School in Clermont County. But to the students, the faculty and the principal, she is the critter lady, or, as noted when one signs in to the school visitor list, the dog lady.

The juxtaposition of the word dog next lady seems ironic and yet, for the past five years, she has nurtured the reading habits and raised the reading level of the very young within her school, all because of a dog named Gator. Kathy first learned of reading dogs (R.E.A.D.) through her work in agility circles. Though Furby, her papillon, was nationally ranked in agility, it was Gator who was Kathy’s first therapy dog in the school.

Locust Corner in eastern Cincnnati was originally known as Pleasant Hill because of the peacefulness of this hilly point in Pierce Township. The community was laid out from the farm of Benjamin Ricker, who settled here shortly after 1830. The still unincorporated community received its present name when the local post office was established in June 1846. The name might have referred to numerous locust trees in the area. Most children in this area have dogs, as evidenced by their constant comparisons of Kathy’s dogs to their own.

But Kathy’s dogs were different. Not because of breed, but because they were certified as therapy dogs, designed to support certain environments to which individuals might alter their behavior because of the presence of the dogs. The dogs would help those learning to read or needing to focus.
.
She kicked off a reading program with six first-graders kids in an after school format. “Six kids,” she tells me, “who never would have stayed after school for anything.” Being with the dogs became a means of reward throughout the day for the children, and still is. It is similar to my young neighbor girls who come and walk my dog, just for the fun it. (I think it’s because he is cuter than the rest!). And when I return the favor by paying them 50 cents, they insist they do not want payment. (They accept the coins anyhow).

As we stride down the hall, Kathy continues on, “When we first started the program the kids were all reading below their grade level. After a year and half, they all were reading at or above their level.”

The program works like this: kids love dogs for their warm heartedness and soft fur. Dogs love kids for the food always left under nails or between fingers (or in the case of my son when in preschool, on his sleeve). Put the two together in a room, ensuring that one of them is trained (the dog) and you will have the magic formula to encourage children to read aloud, regardless of the overprotective eye of an adult, without worries over stumbling while reading in front of their peers.

Kathy escorted two children – “Jack” and “Hally” into a small room, off the open library area. She also carried along Furby, the pappilion, and walked alongside Betsy (part mutt, part retriever) and Gator – part lab. As we walked, she discussed her passion and joy for this program.

“We now have ten dogs who are therapy dogs that come in an read with the children. All are certified at some level through the Delta pilot program or therapy dog international certification.”

I was there because my puppy Enzo, who last chewed on a bra and barks at the wind, had me thinking he might make a good therapy dog, in that he loves to be in someone’s lap. He will soak luxuriously in your affection, and you will forget about your troubles for the day.

Gator, Betsy and Furby are celebrities in this school and when they trot down the hall, or prance into the administrative office looking for treats, it is as if the Jonas Brothers, Jay-Z and Miley Cyrus have stepped out of a limo and into the limelight of Locust Elementary. The children all vie for the attention of the dogs and the adults vie for adoration they may not get from their students that day.

After we enter into a small reading room, Kathy lays down a blue blanket and Gator and Betsy instantly know to recline on it. Furby gets to sit on her owner’s lap on a soft fluffy pad. Furby’s ears pop up at the mention of her name, raised like furry wedge-like antennas, alert to names, treats and even to the voice of Hally. Jack reads first. He reads upside down, like a teacher might. He intersperses his actual reading with a commentary on Gator. “Gator is laying his head in my lap.” When Jack reads a story about a skunk, Gator moves his snout into the belly of black Betsy. And we all joke, “Gator must not like the smell of skunk.” Throughout his reading, Jack appears content to show Gator the pictures from his story books. And when he is engaged in the reading of the words, Jack’s one hand is still conveniently placed on Gator, rubbing his belly, petting Gator’s fur down her back.

When it is Hally’s turn to read, she takes a more simplified approach. But her intentions are no less pure. She too turns the book around to show the pictures to Furby in the lap of her owner. And Furby’s eyes are responsive. Furby, of the spaniel family, reminds me a lot of Enzo in how curious she appears. And when Hally reads the story, “Who can go for a ride,” ears on all three dogs raise up in anticipation of a real ride. They immediately settle back down when they realize it is only a story. They are tired but still alert, having spent the previous hour with another adult, acting as therapy vessel to another room full of children. “We all love being read to,” a wise writing sister of mine once wrote. Dogs are no different.

Kathy and I chat after the children leave. “When kids with ADD come into this room and spot the dog, boom, they immediately calm down.” This focus, this singular focus is astounding when one considers the meaning behind the acronym ADD.

She lets me lead Gator (who really leads me) as we pass down the hallway and enter into Kathy’s other realm, her Phys. Ed. office. Inside, each dog has its pad, water, and even a window, for daylight. Food supplies are ample. Fresh air and the sounds of children on the playground stream in on this balmy October day. The dogs often spend their entire day here in service to the many children whose only desire is to read.

Kathy is proud of this program in a way that is not boastful. She puts down the leashes, leaves the dogs behind closed doors. We reenter the main hallway to peruse the large bulletin board outside the office, looking at the other dogs. A beautiful black lab. A springer spaniel – too many dogs and faces for me to recall their names all in one visit.

I tell Kathy, “My son, as with my stepdaughters were quick studies in reading.” I cannot imagine the burden on the parent with a child who refuses to read, regardless of whether they are being pushed or not. I used to be a reading tutor in the classrooms, when my son was much younger. And I enjoyed a child’s satisfaction that came from a book well read. Perhaps school funders should look more closely at this innovative way to educate children that are on the edge.

In two nights, Locust Elementary will host the first of three literacy nights for the school, each at a different grade level. Parents and children will come into school together. Parents will hear all about the types of reading learning that is taking place within the school walls. Children will get to show off their new friends in Gator, Betsy and Furby and pals. And the dogs, well, they will simply be happy to be back at school, for that is where they feel most at home.