September 2018 – Me and the Doods.com

The Good, the Bad and the Dodgers

As far as Jewish holidays go, Yom Kippur is a biggie. It’s a day of atonement, reflection and remembrance. In the spirit of the new year, I have a confession to make. On the eve of Yom Kippur, I watched a Dodger game with the Doods.

ELBEE Really? She has to bring us into this? Okay, I admit that we’re fans. I love Kershaw.

A couple of years ago, in another questionable call, my friend Donna and I took Gus and his buddy Tommy into UCLA on the holiday. Despite the fact that the dogs were doing good work, we felt so guilty that Donna referred to us as “Yom Kippur felons.” How was I ever going to justify watching the game?

Feeling really guilty, I texted a close friend to ask how bad a sin it was on a scale from one to ten. He said that it was only a one because it was such a pivotal game.

What I was actually planning to write about today, before I decided to confess, were a few special moments that have taken place in the UCLA lobby recently. In the light of my Yom Kippur “oops,” let’s hope they’re also redeeming moments.

A woman, holding her little boy’s hand, brought him over to see the dogs. From his bald head to his downcast eyes and sad demeanor, it appeared that the child was going through difficult treatment. When I asked if he’d like to help the dogs do a trick, he shyly nodded yes. After I whispered the command to him, his sweet voice rang out and he giggled as the Doods performed. The only smile bigger than his was his mom’s.

Next, a man approached who seemed like a paparazzi. I know that seems weird for a hospital. He started taking pictures of the dogs. Then he wanted photos of me with the dogs. Turns out that he had heard about the PAC program where he lives in Connecticut and was very excited to meet some of the members. He couldn’t wait to show the photos to his friends back east. It was like the Hollywood tour.

Then we ran into someone whom the Doods and I have worked with in the neuropsych units for years, even going back to Charley. I wasn’t sure what he meant when he thanked me for comforting his wife on our previous visit. Seeing the puzzled look on my face, he explained that she was the woman in the waiting room who’d thought that Gus was an angel. ( See my post: I Thought I Saw an Angel). I was so touched by the beautiful coincidence that it brought tears to my eyes.

And for any of you baseball fans who were wondering, Chris Taylor hit a walk off home run in that game and the Dodgers won!

THE DOODS Oy Vey!

Diva Doods…Born that Way?

After writing about the divadom of the dogs last week, I started wondering if it was a Doodle thing or if it could possibly be me.

I’ve admitted that as a child, I was a total nerd. I considered posting one of my nerd photos here as proof, but that would be oversharing even for me. Finding bodybuilding as part of a long and difficult recovery from a near fatal car accident was like a rebirth. It turned me into somewhat of a diva.

ELBEE Somewhat?

I went from being terrified of speaking in front of a group of people to blowing kisses to the audience. I went from visibly shaking on stage to flexing my triceps for more applause. And while I’m being totally honest, yes, those old habits die hard. Last week, I was in the lobby of Providence Tarzana Hospital with the Doods, when someone called out, “Didn’t you used to be a bodybuilder?” I probably should have been embarrassed but instead, it was all I could do not to flex.

ELBEE & GUS Thank heavens she restrained herself.

Speaking of flexing, I was in the kitchen when I heard a song on tv that reminded me of my glory days. Ariana Grande was singing “Natural Woman” as a tribute to Aretha Franklin. By coincidence, I had used that same song for a routine in a long ago competition. I got so nostalgic, I figured since no one was watching, I’d hit a few poses.

ELBEE & GUS We were watching and we were disturbed. Stanley, on the other hand, is scarred for life.

Maybe that’s why I feel like the Doods and I are such a good fit. I’m a reborn diva and they were born that way. Recently, Elbee and Gus took part in a People Animal Connection photo shoot at UCLA. The PAC dogs were doing pictures for birthday cards and for the annual calendar. I guess you could technically say there were costume changes involved.

ELBEE The pictures are fabulous but I’m a little disappointed. When I heard “costume changes,” I was expecting Bob Mackie and bling.

Stanley showed glimpses of his inner diva at Elbee’s last vet appointment. (A Pack of Diva Doodles).Then it resurfaced in puppy class. Katie, the trainer, asked to use Stanley to demonstrate how your dog should return to you when called, sitting nicely and not jumping all over you. At first Stanley went for the jump but after only a couple of times of Katie turning her back, Stanley came bouncing over and sat perfectly.

Usually when the dogs do something right in class, people will nod or smile. Not with Stanley. I’m not sure if it was the cuteness factor or his enthusiasm, but everyone in the room applauded. As Marsha, the groomer, commented when I told her about it, “Stanley had his first real diva moment.”

A Pack of Diva Doodles

The good news is that Stanley is having moments of acting like a regular dog instead of a crazy puppy. We didn’t kick him out despite all of the people sharing about how perfect their puppies were. It reminded me of when Jennifer, the oldest daughter, was an infant. Yes, I’m naming names. I don’t think she can sue me for this.

She wasn’t the easiest baby on the block. While I was practically incoherent from sleep deprivation, other new moms were bragging about how their babies were sleeping through the night and never had colic. I figured they were all lying.

ELBEE Has anyone noticed that pack leader has issues with sleep deprivation?

I realized something about Stanley. He has been a member of a pack from day one. He moved from his birth pack straight to the Morrow pack. It’s like he skipped kindergarten and went right to first grade. As anyone who has skipped a grade can tell you, it can be challenging, especially if you look older and are still chewing shoes.

Fortunately, Stanley has made some real progress at being accepted. Gus, who was not his biggest fan, runs around and wrestles with him. I’d almost go so far as to say they’ve become buddies. Even more amazing, Elbee seems to have become his role model.

ELBEE I am a fabulous role model.

I wanted to see if I could put that to good use so I did a little experiment. When he and Stanley were sitting together, I told them both to stay, confident that Elbee would but that Stanley probably wouldn’t. To my surprise, after only two or three tries, it worked. Stanley didn’t move until I called them both to come. Wonder if I can get Elbee to work on the leash walking.

ELBEE She doesn’t pay me enough.

Stanley has quickly picked up something else from his “brothers.” He loves attention and refuses to be left out or ignored. If you pet one of the others, he will find a way to get in on the action. Uh oh! Do I have another diva in training?

ELBEE AND GUS Let us pray.

Our last vet visit at VCA was a perfect example. Elbee had an appointment. Stanley was just along for the ride. There was all kinds of excitement as soon as Dr. Hughes Sanders, whom the dogs adore, walked into the room. When he sat down on the floor to examine Elbee, Stanley nudged his way in next to him, pushing Elbee to the side. He obviously thought that it should be his appointment.

When that wasn’t enough, he put his paws on Dr. Sander’s shoulders. Just to seal the deal, he started licking him. He probably should have been stopped but he was so funny and so cute that we both ended up laughing.

ELBEE And she wonders why she has trouble training him. By the way, I am the pile of white fluff on the floor. I am also a saint.

Controlled Chaos

ELBEE Isn’t that title an oxymoron?

Yes it is but it’s also what I should have named Stanley. He’s moved into the toddler phase. I’d forgotten how challenging that can be. One minute he’s so adorable, sweet and cuddly that I can’t believe I’ve found the most perfect puppy. The next he seems to be Stanley’s evil twin.

It reminds me of the time when one of the daughters (not naming names) was a toddler. We were in a children’s shoe store where she was happily draping purses over her arm. As soon I suggested she put them back, it was as if the child from The Exorcist had arrived.

Which brings me to a few questions. Why does he want to eat shoes when we buy him the most expensive chew toys on the market? Why does he want to jump in the dirt right after a bath? Why does his energy kick in when ours is gone?

GUS Tell me about it. He’s exhausting.

I also wonder why Stanley thinks that 5:30 a.m. is the perfect time to go out to pee. I’ve been so tired that I feel as if I’ve taken leave from my normal life. I even forgot my granddaughter Bella’s birthday. Actually, I didn’t forget the birthday. I sent cards and gifts. I just forgot to call on the day of because I have totally lost track of the date.

ELBEE Hello? Calendar!

I think it’s tougher with a large puppy. It’s like a kid who looks older so you expect more. They can also get into more trouble. The other night my husband left a newspaper on the table assuming it was safe. He didn’t realize that Stanley had grown enough in the last hour or two to be able to stand up, grab it and rip it to shreds.

ELBEE That was impressive.

A couple of things happened to put it all in perspective. First, I took Stanley to a puppy class for socialization and very basic training. He was great. He was almost well behaved. He was friendly with the other dogs. But what made me feel even better was the reaction when Katie, the teacher, started giving suggestions for dealing with teething, nipping and potty training. Every puppy owner in the room sat up at attention. I was not alone.

Then I heard an interview with Bo Derek, a total animal person. She said that when she has a new puppy, she takes off three months, like canine maternity leave. Who knew I had so much in common with her.

ELBEE And just call me Lassie.