A cuddly, four-footed lecturer sits on a fuzzy red blanket at an elementary school in Peel, ready to teach some lessons in love. Hannah, a soft-spoken student, dashes over to the orange tabby cat and places three books in front of her. “Molly, you pick,” she says. The cat obligingly puts a paw on a book about bicycles. Hannah stretches out in front of the cat, reading the book upside down so the animal can follow along. She pets her continuously as she recites slowly. Molly’s ears perk up as if she’s listening.

Molly works with Therapeutic Paws of Canada (TPOC), a non-profit, volunteer-based charity that harnesses our natural bonds with animals. The organization sends cats and dogs and their handlers to entertain nursing home residents, console patients in hospitals, reassure panicked university students and more. The Paws to Read program pairs kids struggling to read with companion animals who come weekly to offer emotional support and an uncritical audience.

Hannah has made great progress alongside her furry tutor, says Angela James-Harris, the teacher who runs the initiative at her school. Just three months ago, Hannah wasn’t willing to sit with a book, but the cat has spurred her efforts.

“Hannah’s trying to teach Molly to read. That’s a big confidence boost,” says James-Harris. This newfound enthusiasm has fuelled more practice and a greater mastery of the skill. The cat’s accepting attitude also facilitates learning.

“Molly doesn’t make me feel embarrassed to read,” explains Hannah.

Therapy animals provide an extra incentive to grapple with literacy, says Canadian child psychologist Aubrey Fine, professor emeritus at California State Polytechnic University. Preschool children in the magical years are stoked by their belief that the pets understand the books. Older children are also inspired. “When animals seem engaged, individuals feel acknowledged and listened to,” says Fine.

The pet’s appreciative demeanor is also helpful, says Gretchen Carlisle, a scientist at the University of Missouri’s Research Center for Human-Animal Interaction. When children read to adults, they’re afraid of making errors. “But they’re less worried in the presence of an animal who isn’t going to judge them,” says Carlisle.

Therapy animals also promote learning by dispelling anxiety, says Fine. Petting a dog reduces the stress chemical cortisol, helping us unwind, and also releases the “cuddle hormone” oxytocin, which makes us feel secure. The mere presence of an animal can be soothing. In one study, children were asked to read a difficult passage aloud. Those who recited it in the presence of a dog were more relaxed – their blood pressure was lower and their concentration better than those without the comforting buffer.

Molly has worked this kind of magic all her life. Her vet pegged her as a therapy cat right from her kitten days, says her owner, retired nurse Cathy James.

“She was so mellow and affectionate,” says James.

When she grew up, James took Molly for TPOC’s therapy animal evaluation, which tested her composure in the face of loud noises, rolling wheelchairs and other simulated real-life hurdles. Molly didn’t bat an eye, and was equally unflappable during her child certification process, where she withstood temptations such as treats in little people’s pockets and other kid-specific pitfalls. The therapy cat has thrived since she began living out her destiny.

“Anywhere she gets lots of attention, Molly’s happy,” says James.

Molly’s next child-partner Arielle can’t wait for her next cuddle. Molly’s been off with a tooth infection, and Arielle has been demanding daily updates on the cat’s health. She’s even made her mentor a get-well card. Now Arielle launches herself at the tabby, chattering excitedly and enthusiastically stroking her fur backwards.

“Pet her this way,” says James, demonstrating the proper technique.

Arielle wriggles around as she explores the whole animal, from her silky ears to her gurgling belly. Anxious not to overlook a spot, she worries when she can’t locate the last body part tucked under Molly’s bottom.

“Where is her tail?” she asks James, who unfurls it to the child’s relief. Arielle pets it diligently.

“Be gentle,” reminds James.

Arielle slows her caresses and finally lies on her stomach beside the cat. “She’s watching me,” Arielle observes. The child’s eyes go wide with wonder.

Arielle’s bond with Molly has been transformative. When the student first met Molly, she was loud and agitated, jumping up after just a few minutes. James laid out some ground rules that included a low-pitched voice and a soft touch to make Molly comfortable. Entranced by the cat, Arielle has tried hard to please her and settles down much faster now when she’s around Molly.

Fine isn’t surprised. Children want the animals to like them, and this motivates them to cultivate social skills. Fine draws attention to the pets’ feedback to mold the students’ behaviour. “If you try not to move, the cat will come to you,” he points out.

Animals can also enhance children’s manners by serving as a social lubricant, says Carlisle. In one of her studies of children with autism, those who had pets were more assertive than the ones without.

“The companion animals gave them something to talk about that they had in common with their peers,” she says.

Arielle could talk to James all day about the cat they both treasure. Arielle sees the animal’s owner as an extension of Molly, and has benefitted from this additional warm relationship.

The joyous interlude ends with the clanging of the recess bell. “Can you say ‘bye’?” says James.

Eventually, Arielle tears herself away, takes a few steps, then pivots back to the animal, clutching her in a final, tight embrace. Then she skips out the door, a little less frantic and more focused, ready to face the day.

Therapeutic Paws of Canada is looking for volunteers. To learn more, visit tpoc.ca.