Author name: lindy

Your name and role: Jenny Phillips About yourself: I am a qualified nursery nurse, paediatric and neonatal intensive care nurse, and forest school practitioner. With experience teaching across all ages—from little ones in early years settings to adult learners and the elderly I’ve worked as a paediatric nursing lecturer and SEN teacher. Passionate about combining animal therapy with health and education, I bring a warm, practical approach to supporting learners in all kinds of environments. About Jenny I am a qualified nursery nurse, paediatric and neonatal intensive care nurse, and forest school practitioner. With experience teaching across all ages—from little ones in early years settings to adult learners and the elderly—I’ve worked as a paediatric nursing lecturer and SEN teacher. Passionate about combining animal therapy with health and education, I bring a warm, practical approach to supporting learners in all kinds of environments. My professional path has always centred on care, connection, and creating meaningful spaces for learning and healing. I began in early years education as a nursery nurse, nurturing curiosity, emotional security, and potential from the start of a child’s development. This led me into paediatric and neonatal intensive care nursing, where I witnessed the power of compassion in critical moments. Later, as a university lecturer and forest school practitioner, I embraced nature-based learning, building environments where children could grow through exploration and connection with the natural world. Now, I teach in a Special Educational Needs (SEN) school, where supporting children emotionally, socially, and developmentally is central. Alongside this, I hold qualifications in animal and farm therapy—specialisms that have enabled me to bring therapeutic animals, particularly dogs, into educational and care settings. Article Summary In this article, Jenny shares why dogs are more than companions—they’re co-educators. Drawing on experience across early years, special education, health, and higher education, she shows how dogs create bridges where traditional methods fall short. For Jenny, dogs don’t just comfort; they open doors to confidence, connection, and learning. She explores how dogs calm anxious learners, help children regulate emotions, and spark joy in literacy. Pupils write stories, letters, and invitations inspired by their canine friends, while reluctant readers flourish during “read-to-dog” sessions. Jenny’s work also extends to clinical settings and universities—where dogs joined lectures, supported students during exams, and became part of campus culture. One dog, Walter, a trained Hearing Dog, has been central to Jenny’s journey, symbolising inclusion and sparking conversations about accessibility. In this article, Jenny shows how dogs embody the heart of inclusive practice. They don’t judge or rush—they simply show up, offering empathy and presence. In doing so, they help learners feel seen and valued, proving that education is about connection as much as content. Main Article A Career Journey of Care, Connection, and Canine Companionship Across my journey in health, education, and therapy, one truth has become clear: dogs are more than companions. In the right environments, they become co-regulators, motivators, communicators—and powerful bridges between children and the world around them. Dogs in Education: Learning Companions, Calming Presences, and Connection Builders Across every stage of my teaching journey—from early years to higher education—dogs have been powerful partners in learning. Whether with toddlers in the EYFS, neurodivergent learners in SEN schools, or university students under pressure, I’ve seen dogs build bridges where traditional methods fall short. In early years and forest school settings, dogs acted as calming, connecting presences. Their gentle support helped children regulate emotions, reduce anxiety, and grow in confidence. Carefully introduced, they became co-regulators, companions, and catalysts for wider learning. Dogs also brought purpose and joy to literacy. Children wrote letters, created invitations, and penned stories about their time with the dogs. In our reading-to-dogs project, learners read aloud in calm, non-judgmental spaces—boosting fluency, confidence, and a love for books. At university, I developed the Canine Teaching Assistant Project to support student wellbeing and academic success. Dogs joined my lectures, sat alongside students during sessions, and offered emotional grounding during exams. One dog in particular, Walter, a fully trained Hearing Dog for Deaf People, became a symbol of inclusion. His presence in university discussions on disability and accessibility sparked meaningful conversations and participation across disciplines. Whether offering quiet reassurance to a nervous reader, celebrating a milestone, or walking beside a student through their day, dogs consistently show up as true co-educators—trusted, responsive, and deeply attuned to the needs of those around them. Dogs in Health: Calming, Connecting, and Changing Outcomes In clinical settings—often sterile, stressful, and overwhelming—dogs bring something medicine cannot prescribe: presence. Their arrival can instantly shift the atmosphere. As a paediatric and neonatal intensive care nurse, I witnessed how therapy dogs acted as mediators of stress, benefiting everyone—from anxious parents to exhausted nurses. Their impact goes beyond emotion. Studies show interacting with dogs reduces cortisol levels, lowers blood pressure, and stimulates endorphins—producing measurable changes that support healing (Beetz et al., 2012; Kamioka et al., 2014). In teaching, I integrated animal-assisted approaches into health education, encouraging students to explore how dogs can support physiotherapy, speech therapy, anxiety management, and person-centred care. The presence of a dog transcends age, diagnosis, and background. They see the person behind the patient—and help others do the same. Dogs and Inclusion: Breaking Barriers, Building Belonging Inclusion, to me, has never been just about diagnosis or ability. It’s about connection. Across all the environments I’ve worked in, dogs have helped bring inclusion to life through presence, compassion, and non-judgmental connection. Walter, a Hearing Dog, has accompanied me across multiple roles. His quiet companionship helps people feel seen—not for their diagnosis, but for who they are. In SEN schools, therapy dogs adapt beautifully to each child’s needs—providing comfort, motivation, or calm as required. At university, therapy dogs became part of interprofessional learning, sparking new understanding of inclusive practice. When dogs are thoughtfully integrated into education and care settings, they help create spaces where everyone belongs. They don’t judge or demand—they simply show up with empathy, patience, and unconditional acceptance. Key Takeaways: Closing Thoughts – More Than a Companion From intensive care

Your name and role: Lesley Forrester About yourself: I’m a Speech & Language Therapist by profession, and I balance a half time NHS job alongside my role as an animal assisted practitioner and company director for NAATA (Northern Animal Assisted Therapies and Activities).   Article summary: In this article Lesley reflects on her journey working with therapy dogs, beginning with Heidi and later joined by Gunther. Initially, balancing school expectations with Heidi’s welfare was challenging, especially in SEND settings where routine is vital. The addition of Gunther brought flexibility, allowing the dogs to share sessions based on their readiness and suitability. Each dog offers unique strengths, Heidi’s independence and love of fetch contrast with Gunther’s affectionate nature and calming presence. Lesley highlights the importance of reading canine communication and tailoring interactions to individual children. She also explores the value of multi-species teams, including therapy chickens, which offer alternative experiences such as ‘chickniks’ for children anxious around dogs. These animals enrich learning, promote empathy, and support emotional regulation. The reflection emphasises ethical practice, animal welfare, and the importance of collaborative human teams in delivering effective animal-assisted interventions. Ultimately, Lesley advocates for a responsive, respectful approach that celebrates diversity and deepens outcomes for both children and animals. Lessons in Teamwork from the Garden Pack It has been a rare, hot weekend in the Northeast of England. I’m writing from the garden where my animal team are finding relief in the shaded areas. The hens are resting under the shrubs, occasionally spreading a wing to catch the rays.   Our two Golden Retrievers, Heidi & Gunther, are lounging on the cool patio stones in the shade of the house. Heidi, our 6-year-old girl has been dipping in and out of the toddler paddling pool. She is as much at home in the water as she is out of it and her favourite pursuit is swimming out to sea after a ball and riding back in on the waves. If only I were a surfer i might have introduced her to a board.  I myself am not a strong swimmer. Me and 3-year-old, Gunther, prefer to splash in the shallows. On beach trips he swims just far enough to steal Heidi’s ball from her mouth, then proudly returns it as though he was a champion retriever. The relationship between dog and handler as teammates has had some well-deserved attention of late. Writers such as Ann Howie have inspired us to think of how synergy with our canine partners enhances the human animal bond and maximisers our outcomes. In this article I’ll consider some other aspects of teams in Animal Assisted Intervention. Dog Teams Heidi had been my first and only therapy dog. I had always hoped to have a dog team to work with, but it wasn’t until Gunther joined us that I really became aware of the benefits it would bring. Early in my animal assisted journey I felt some conflict between meeting the expectations of schools and prioritising Heidi’s welfare. To be fair, Heidi had great enthusiasm for the role and seldom wanted to be left at home on a school day. I’m also blessed that she communicates clearly with me about her needs and wishes. She is particularly susceptible to heat and there were times when a ride in a hot car wouldn’t have been a good start to the day. Then there was an occasional morning when she looked at me in NAATA uniform, rolled away from me on her bed and dismissed me by closing her eyes. Even when our conditions of service made it clear that the dogs welfare needs were our top priority, that they would choose to come to work and that we would respect any decision not to, it was still hard to let the children down on those days. This felt especially so in special education where children were often reliant on predictable routines and not able to understand our explanations about the dog needing a day off. A dog team can work flexibly, taking some of that pressure away. Now our dogs share the timetable, accompanying me to school for our two-hour sessions on 1 or 2 days each per week. If one dog is particularly keen or one shows any reluctance for work, we can usually adjust their ‘shifts’ to suit them. Of course, it doesn’t always work out that way. To begin with, we maintain a rule that neither dog works two days in a row and it’s important that one dog isn’t overworked when the other declines. When working in a variety of settings, members of the animal team aren’t necessarily interchangeable. One dog’s working environment may not be suitable for the other, for a variety of reasons. For example, Gunther is a big fella. Until recently, he could still be a little clumsy around very small children or wheelchair users, so those days tended to be reserved for Heidi Turning that on its head, with careful management, the team bring potential for great variety, an increased range of outcomes and a rich source of learning and development for the human handler. Heidi and Gunther each have a unique set of skills and preferences that mean a greater scope for enjoyment, innovation and relationship dynamics. The children in some SEND settings particularly benefit from being with Gunther. They crave physical contact and sometimes struggled with Heidi’s very independent nature. It can be tricky to help child process what they may perceive as rejection from a dog, who declines touch particularly if their understanding of language is limited and we can’t easily reassure them. Needless to say, Gunther revels in the cuddles and these children are quick to learn how to sit or lie in a way that invites him to come close. He leans into them or lies across them, providing calming input, and he delights in sharing a blanket with them. For children with sporting interests, Gunther’s tendency to steal balls to evoke a chase might cause some frustrations.