Buster, a “Westie,” for West Highland white terrier, is quite the character.
He’s no slouch, he has a job. Works as a certified therapy dog at various locations, often six times a week when at home in Winchester, just outside of Boston, with seasonal Vineyarder Carl Kaplan.
He’s on somewhat of a busman’s holiday this July, visiting families, children, and adults of all ages at the West Tisbury library, every Thursday from noon until 1 pm. He’s been to other libraries on the Island, and plans are underway for trips to the Center for Living and Camp Jabberwocky. Busy Westie, Buster.
This past Thursday, Buster, dressed smartly in a multicolored lit collar, was cool as a cucumber while kids swarmed him. You didn’t have to look too carefully to tell Buster was eating up all the attention. He’s a sensitive fellow, though — knew whom of the few tentative youths to leave alone.
Unlike service dogs, those that help people who are blind or have extreme anxiety, a therapy dog’s work is to provide comfort. “Work” entails being petted, wagging the tail, rolling on the floor, and going over to say hello, if that is what you want. Carl Kaplan says, “I don’t know how he learned this. If I point and say, ‘Go say hi!’ that’s what he does.” Good Buster.
Besides libraries, Carl and Buster travel to hospitals, where patients and staff find their visits a relief. Kaplan tells me that doctors now sometimes ask him to see particular patients, recognizing the therapeutic benefit of a visit.
The pair go to nursing homes and, most of all, schools. Kaplan tells me many universities bring in therapy dogs during finals week. They have been to the USS Constitution several times for Navy Mental Health Week, and they have started visiting the New England Home for the Deaf.
Buster is a superb example of a therapy dog because of his easygoing personality. Nothing fazes him. “The Westie breed has the nickname of the jolly terrier, because they’re always optimistic and happy,” Kaplan explains. “They have so much self-confidence, which lends itself well because he’s a small package — little kids are not afraid of him. We joke that he’s a ‘role model’ because they can do whatever they want to him, and he doesn’t care.” Kaplan assures us that he teaches children to always ask before petting any dog, so they learn proper etiquette and safety when going up to a stranger’s canine.
Kaplan insists, too, that any breed with the right personality makes a good therapy dog. “A therapy dog is simply one that is just a well-behaved dog that is used to new surroundings. We got Buster when he was a puppy. I took him on the T into Boston. He’s a very laid-back dog, to begin with, but he’s used to new things. When alarms go off in a hospital, he just doesn’t care. He got used to wheelchairs and elevators. Sometimes I think it’s a dog’s personality. You can’t train it, but you can emphasize it by letting them experience new things when they’re young.”
Buster knows when to go into work mode. “We’ll be going into a hospital and not really paying attention, and he’ll whack my leg with his nose, and then just walk a straight line in the middle of the hallway and be very focused. He’s a very well-behaved dog, but when he’s working, he just elevates it.”
Kaplan calls Buster an ambassador, as when going to schools with immigrant students from countries where dogs are not pets. With special-needs youth, he says, “I think in many cases, the parent would like to have a dog, but it isn’t something you want to experiment with to see if it works out. Buster may be the first dog they have encountered up-close. I have situations where a kid will start on the other side of the room, and then, week after week, they get a little closer. By the end of the year, they are all over Buster, and want their own dog.”
Buster does have a quirk: He is a bit of a television addict. “He tends to attack the TV if there’s an animal. He knows they’re not real, but it’s a fun game. However, I’ve noticed that with very few exceptions, when he’s in a patient’s room, he will not watch TV. He’ll sometimes sneak a look.”
Watching Buster and Kaplan together, you get the team. “I have two hands as a handler,” he says. “One for the dog and one for the person. Buster’s never done anything, and we’ve gone on 450 and some-odd visits, but I’m always ready. Yet, at the same time, with little kids or seniors with dementia, I’m always ready to protect him from them reaching out and doing something.”
Buster and Kaplan are pals‚ with Buster frequently looking up at Kaplan, and him talking to Buster: “One of the things I’ve always done since he was a puppy is I want to do whatever he does. If he wants to walk in the rain, I’m going to walk in the rain, so he knows I’ll do what he wants. In return, I think that’s why he tries to learn what I want him to do.”
Keep an eye out for Buster. He’ll make your heart sing, and Kaplan is full of stories. Besides, you’ll get to meet, or, uh, pet a dog who loves his job.
Visit Buster and Carl Kaplan at the West Tisbury library every Thursday in July, from noon to 1 pm.
