This fictional goodbye letter to the therapist follows on from the sample reformulation letter.
The following goodbye letter is a fictional one, which makes a fond reference to the Wallace and Gromit adventure “The Wrong Trousers”. This is intended to be light and humorous, and clearly does not make reference to a real therapy. We hope that it does not give the impression that we are trivialising therapy, which is certainly not our intention. This letter, and the reformulation letter that preceded it, have been written to make some points that commonly arise in therapy but at the same time no single example can represent all aspects of therapy.
Dear Dr Blunden,
I know you are going to comment on the way I’ve addressed you above, but I just can’t help it, the pack animal in me recognises the hierarchy in here and it just feels wrong to call you anything else. So you’ll just have to accept that I do, and probably always will, look up to you. As we’ve talked about, this is literal as well as metaphorical, of course, and the magic of what you’ve done is to really make me so aware – painfully aware often – that I am a dog. A small, furry, dare I say cute, dog.
I’ve screwed up my nose and brow, and shaken my paws in anger at what this feels like, and the realisation of what it really means being a dog living in a human world. How dare you all!! If only you’d think for a minute how much you take for granted and abuse our loyalty. A dog not only follows his leader (or owner, as you prefer to call it) but loves his leader. Humans just don’t seem to get it. I realise now how much I do for Wallace, and how much of that is invisible and goes unnoticed by him. Yet, however stupid he is sometimes (which I know, I usually manage to rescue him from) he is still the one being in this world who, when push comes to shove, really loves me.
This too was a surprisingly painful realisation. However much I sometimes feel out of place, marginalized or oppressed, I also realise that I am a very special dog with very special privileges. In lots of ways, Wallace has treated me as if I am human, and it has never even seemed to cross his mind that it might be a little out of the ordinary that I can read and write, for example. That and a million other little things mean that I have a very interesting life, more in the human domain than the dog one, and however painful that is at times, I have come to accept this as something that is, and that in fact I have and continue to choose.
That all sounds a bit pompous too though, rereading it. Truth is, if Feathers hadn’t turned out to be a criminal and done that heist then Wallace and I would never have had the opportunity just then to work together to defeat him. I’d have left home for good and probably never have returned. But destiny did intervene and Wallace and I did rediscover our ability to work well together and the element of danger and excitement helped too, if I’m honest! I guess I’m just an adventurous dog at heart and, for the time being at least, that seems more appealing than puppies. But maybe one day, eh?
Thanks so much for all your kindness and, yes, wisdom. I’ll miss the smelly patch in your consulting room, but coming across a similar odour will always transport me back. Thank you for rekindling the warmth I have for Wallace.
May your dinner bowl always be full,