Therapy Dog Thursday with Charlotte, the Great Dane

Life in a psychiatric ward and Charlotte, the therapy dog.

I keep walking about the house looking for things. I enter a room, determined, but by the time I scan it and search it whole, I realize that I have no idea why I even came there in the first place. I find myself staring everywhere. Into space. The fridge. The closet. The clogged sink drain. And if it were not for Tug and Waffle’s alerts, I’d probably st…