Woodman, the MCPHS therapy dog.
University News | 9/24/2026

MCPHS’s New Therapy Dog is Kind of a Big Deal

By Dana Barbuto
Woodman, the MCPHS therapy dog.

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Meet Woodman. He’s 60 pounds of fur, enthusiasm, and unconditional love.

The grilled cheese food truck had drawn a line of hungry students to the West Patio on the Boston campus of Massachusetts College of Pharmacy and Health Sciences (MCPHS).

Then Woodman arrived.

The 60-pound Bernedoodle worked the crowd, tail wagging as he made his way from group to group. Eventually, he took his place at the end of the line, apparently deciding that grilled cheese was worth waiting for.

Then came the inevitable.

“Oh, my God, hellloooo!”

“Can I pet your dog?”

“He’s so cute!”

“Oh, my goodness! Hi, baby.”

Woodman, a 5-year-old therapy dog with a red vest that reads “Ask to pet me. I’m friendly,” was having a very good day at MCPHS.

“He’s a bouncy, energetic guy,” says his owner and handler, Henry Mallett, Associate Director of Counseling Services on the Boston campus. “He’s a goofy guy, lovable, warm, and he loves people.”

Woodman has been making appearances at MCPHS since last year, but now that Counseling Services has moved into its new home at One Palace Road, he has a more regular campus schedule. He’ll be around on Fridays and other days by request, meeting with students through the center and making appearances at events such as Orientation and Late Night Breakfast. Between visits, students may also spot him making the rounds through campus hallways, patios, and atriums.

In other words, Woodman has a busy social calendar.

“He has a really good job,” Mallett says.

That job is simple: Show up. Wag his tail. Brighten someone’s day.

He sits with students. He accepts belly rubs. He makes people laugh. And if someone happens to need a little extra encouragement, he’s there for that, too.

Earlier that day, a student had come to the Counseling Center feeling homesick. Her family lives far away, school had just started, and the academic rigor was beginning to sink in.

“I miss my dog,” she told Mallett. Then she looked at Woodman. “And this guy is making my day.”

Later, as Woodman made his rounds on campus, a student in scrubs spotted him after taking a abdominal sonography exam.

“Can I pet him?” she asked. “We just had a bad test.”

That’s exactly the kind of interaction Mallett hopes Woodman can create.

“He’s helping to break down the stigma of mental health counseling,” Mallett says. “A lot of students might not want to seek counseling, but they all want to pet the therapy dog.”

As Mallett walks him around campus, students who spot him often stop mid-stride. Mallett takes the opportunity to chat: How’s the semester going? How are classes? He can point students toward Counseling Services while Woodman handles the introductions.

“Come for the cuddles, stay for some conversation,” Mallett tells students.

Woodman earned his therapy dog certification through Dog B.O.N.E.S. (Dogs Building Opportunities for Nurturing and Emotional Support), a nonprofit based in Scituate, MA. He doesn’t growl, comes when he’s called, and seems to believe he is, in fact, a person.

“He just wants to go up to each group and say, ‘Hi, hi, hi,’” Mallett says. “He thinks he’s a person.”

He also thinks he’s a therapist.

Woodman likes to sit in Mallett’s chair, prompting his handler to joke that sometimes the dog does more for students than he does.

“At least the immediate cheering up,” Mallett says, laughing.

At home, Woodman’s interests are decidedly less professional. He likes watching TV from the couch, particularly Bruins and Patriots games. He’s good at playing catch, refuses to eat vegetables (“He’s a meat eater,” Mallett says) and sleeps on his back with his paws in the air. When he’s tired, he makes a distinctive mooing sound.

His name has a story, too. Mallett and his wife chose Woodman after Woodman’s seafood restaurant in Essex, MA, where they had their first date.

Woodman lives at home with them and their 18-month-old son, but when he’s on campus, he belongs to everyone.

“He’s the college’s dog, collectively,” Mallett says.