Last week it cost me R700 to find out that Lola was healthy after she pooped on the sofa. Right next to me. While I was having breakfast.

The vet said that she was so comfortable and happy, that she just didn’t feel like moving when her bowels did.

Equally apparently, this dog is supposed to provide me with mental health benefits. In one American survey, commissioned by a pet food company, 69 percent of dog owners reported that their dogs improved their mental and emotional well-being.

They comforted them when they were sad, helped them through stressful times, and lent an ear when they needed to vent.

Importantly, the survey did not focus on therapy dogs, but on everyday canine companions who were not trained for any form of therapeutic or assistance work.

According to the survey, one out of three dog owners believe their dogs can change their mood for the better and ease the burden of the day.

It is a role that my other dog, Charlie, accepts with furry grace. He places his little head on my shoulder when I’m working in bed. He curls up in the crook of my knee while I am gaming. He adores playing games and tummy rubs and walkies. He is pure therapy.

Lola, on the other hand, not so much. Her tiny brain is focused on “breathe in, breathe out”, as she runs in between my legs in an attempt to knock me out or improve my agility.

Lola is the one who pooped on the sofa, got stuck in the security gate, ate a stick and vomited it up on my brand new yoga studio floor, and ran into the door at 3am because she didn’t realise it was closed.

When we’re at the dog park, she hurtles into shrubberies. I end up having to extricate her from thorns. If someone leaves the gate open (thanks, contractors), she bolts outside and runs into the dog-hating neighbour’s house. Yes, the one who has already issued a formal complaint because she’s done it twice before.

And yet, when my friends come round, Lola is an absolute angel. “Oh, she is so sweet!” they cry, as she snuggles up to them or brings them her toy to throw.

“I can’t believe this dog,” said a cat-loving visitor. “I don’t usually like dogs, but look at her, she’s so lovely!”

As I watch Lola win people over with furry ease, I realise she may just be the most therapeutic of dogs. She loves every human equally.

When we visit someone else’s house, she is the one that clambers onto a lap or curls up by a foot or plays with the kids. She adores humans and makes them feel like they are the most important beings on the planet.

As of today, I’ve had two requests to look after her when I go away on a trip. I think Lola just sees me as her butler. Thank goodness for Charlie!