Thank You, Roxie-my quiet therapy buddy
Posting this on Roxie’s birthday felt like the right way to say “thank you.”
An illustration of Roxie “at work.”
From time to time, I like to share pieces of what makes the therapy space feel like home.
Roxie was never on my payroll, never wrote goals, and never took data.
But she showed up for therapy every single day-for 13 and a half years.
She was my office mate — the kind who understood the rhythm of sessions better than most humans ever could. She knew when it was work time. She never made a peep. Not once. She waited patiently, curled up nearby, trusting that her time would come.
And it always did.
For many of my clients, Roxie was the quiet motivator at the end of a session.
“Say hi to Roxie when you’re done.”
“Roxie’s waiting if you do a good job.”
That mattered — especially for kids who needed just a little extra reason to push through something hard. She made therapy feel safe. Rewarding. Human.
When she was younger, back in our Florida days, Roxie would sometimes sit in on sessions for certain clients. Just there. Calm. Present. Grounding. She didn’t need to do anything to help — she simply was.
Later, during teletherapy, she kept the same job description. She’d station herself right by my side, quietly supervising sessions and patiently awaiting her well-earned cookies for “good behavior.” She understood the system. She always did.
Even toward the end — when her body was tired — my clients still asked about her.
They wanted to see her.
They wanted to say goodbye.
And that’s when it really hit me: Roxie wasn’t just my dog. She was part of the therapy space. Part of the connection. Part of the reason some kids felt comfortable enough to show up as themselves.
She taught me something I already believed but now hold even closer: therapy is more than materials, goals, and progress charts.
It’s presence. It’s safety. It’s knowing someone is there with you — quietly, faithfully — while you do hard things.
Thank you, Roxie.
For your patience.
For your silence.
For your timing.
For knowing your moment would always come.
You were the very best office mate.