ELBEE A few days ago I did something for the first time in my storied career as a therapy dog. I crossed a picket line. I’m not a scab. I’m more like Switzerland. Besides, I’m a lover not a fighter.
GUS Surprisingly, I’m slightly more political than Elbee. Remember, I ran for mayor but I did run as an independent (Gus for Mayor?).
This week, as part of a larger movement, there was a 3-day strike at UCLA Medical Center. It included service employees (e.g. nutrition, housekeeping, security) as well as patient care technicians (e.g. respiratory therapists, radiology technicians). Also involved were healthcare professionals such as pharmacists and social workers. Many nurses were on strike for part of the period.
Wednesday, our scheduled day at the hospital, the strike was going to be in full swing. I was given the option of staying home with the Doods if I felt uncomfortable. After some consideration, I decided to bring them in. It wasn’t at all a politically motivated decision. It was more about bringing comfort when and where it was most needed.
When we arrived at the hospital, the picket line was stretched across the driveway. I admit it was a bit intimidating. Then one of the strikers held up his hand to signal the crowd to let us through.
Our first stop was at the command center in the basement. Several people were sitting in a line of desks against the wall, waiting to deal with whatever problems might arise. After greeting everyone and sensing that they could really use a break, I asked if they’d like to see the dogs do some tricks. I got an enthusiastic group “yes.”
ELBEE Pack Leader can’t resist a captive audience but the little guy and I were fabulous and got a big round of applause.
If I still had any doubts about bringing the dogs in that morning, they faded away as we visited our regular neuropsych units. A girl on the verge of tears gave a shy grin when Gus curled up in her lap. A severely disturbed teen who had barely responded to the dogs on our last visit, smiled and chatted as he interacted with them. Another patient, who knew the dogs well, laughed and called out “encore” after they did a few tricks. From the time we arrived until the time we left, the mood was light and happy.
Once back in the lobby, I lost count of how many staff, patients and family members came over to hug and pet Elbee and Gus. Many quietly thanked us for being there. Even a police officer we met enjoyed a moment of stress relief.
Driving home, I felt very emotional as I thought about the morning. Therapy dogs don’t take sides. They don’t judge. They offer comfort to whomever needs it. They are there to heal, to love, to provide moments of calm. Simply put, they do their job, albeit in a spectacular way.
