November 2018 – Me and the Doods.com

Grace, Gratitude and Chaos

It’s no secret that we don’t have a Norman Rockwell Thanksgiving at our house. With four dogs in the mix, including a large puppy, this year was no different. Yet, with the recent devastation in California, chaos and laughter were a welcome relief, even if most of the laughter was inappropriate and mine.

We were sitting at the dining room table when Samantha, my nine year old granddaughter, asked if each of us would share what we were grateful for. It started out beautifully but then it was my turn. I lost it. I’m not good when put on the spot.

ELBEE I think we can safely assume that grandma of the year is off the table.

Some people cry. A few of my closest friends (you know who you are Elaine and Elliott) and I laugh. It’s a great emotional release.

The next day, as I started writing about the things I was thankful for I was having trouble finding the words. I suddenly realized that with the enormity of recent events, I didn’t want to pay lip service to gratitude. I’d seen all of the news about the mass shootings and the wildfires but was at a comfortable distance.

At the spur of the moment, I put Stanley in the car and drove to some of the affected areas. At first I was selfishly relieved to see that a few of my favorite hiking trails were safe. Then I reached some of the hardest hit places and, whether or not it was my imagination, thought I could sense the lingering smell of smoke.

The Santa Monica mountains were blackened. I passed the remains of houses that had been leveled. I also saw how close the flames had come to homes that had been spared. As I drove on, I was completely overwhelmed by the size of the area that had been affected and by the almost incomprehensible level of destruction. It made me realize how important it is to focus on the positives and to express gratitude.

Thank you to the brave first responders and to the countless heroes who risked their lives to save others. Thank you to all of the people who set aside their differences simply to help each other. Your human kindness inspires me.

Thank you to the friends who introduced me to hiking so many years ago. The mountains are my spiritual place. They’re my refuge. I will never take them for granted. I am still in awe of the hawks and ravens soaring effortlessly on the wind drafts.

Thank you to my big hearted, funny Doods who enable me to have the joy and privilege of being a therapy dog handler. To all of the people in the hospital who’ve smiled and said, “you’ve made my day,” when smiling was the last thing they felt like doing, you’ve made our day.

Above all, thank you to my wonderful, crazy loving family. You are my joy, my strength and fodder for my blog. A special note of appreciation to Samantha for reminding me of the importance of expressing gratitude.

Help! Stanley’s a Teenager

With all of the devastation in California, I truly hope this post will provide a brief time out. Enjoy!

The other night in beginning obedience class, Stanley went rogue. One minute he was behaving so well that I wanted to take a bow and the next he was acting like a total goofball. It was as if the music he was hearing in his head switched from easy listening to heavy metal. He tried to engage with the other dogs. He let out occasional random barks and generally became disruptive.

When I asked Michelle, the trainer, what was going on, I was totally unprepared for her answer. She laughed and said, “Oh, he’s just a teenager.” Those four words struck fear in my heart. I knew I was in trouble. Memories of the daughters as teens came flooding back.

They would sometimes pretend not to know me so that I wouldn’t embarrass them in public. Same for when I had to drop them off a block from the movies so that their friends wouldn’t see me.

ELBEE In their defense, I’ve seen photos. Pack Leader was bodybuilding, had a fake tan and wore bright spandex. Enough said.

They’d steal my clothes (not the spandex), my make up and even the car. There was a random assortment of boyfriends. There were mood swings. There were decisions based on emotion rather than rational thinking. I’m also sure there was drinking. At one point a daughter said, “You should be happy that we tell you everything.” I later learned that meant about ten percent.

There was a time when they were 13, 16 and 19 and one or two of them were threatening to run away. I said absolutely not. If anyone is running away, it’s me. How was I going to handle that all over again and with a dog!

**Stanley and His Buddy** **Ryan, a Good Teenager!**

The good news is that although he has the same mood swings and questionable judgment, there are more positives with a teenage dog. For one thing, he doesn’t steal the car.

ELBEE He doesn’t even like to get in the car. The poor guy has motion sickness issues.

He doesn’t date or sneak out at night. He doesn’t hang out at the mall. He steals my clothes but fortunately not my makeup. And, although I would never encourage it, he has such amazing eyelashes that mascara would look fabulous.

Instead of threatening to run away or pretending not to know me, he likes me. He really likes me. When we go out for a walk he stays proudly by my side.

ELBEE Hello! It’s called a leash.

The vey best part of all is that Stanley’s teens will only last a few months!

Jack and Shane, Hope and Healing

After one of the most devastating weeks in Southern California history, I felt almost frivolous writing a post. Countless people are reeling in the aftermath of the incomprehensible mass shooting. Thousands of others are dealing with the destruction from the massive wild fires. Even though I am miles away from the flames, the air is getting smokier and smokier as I sit here to write.

I decided to share a story of triumph over adversity. I hope that it will provide a note of inspiration in these difficult days.

My dear friend Jack Barron lives and breathes animal therapy. I don’t think he’s ever met a dog that he didn’t like or couldn’t win over. I first met him many years ago when he was teaching a Pet Partners work shop. Then, when I started bringing Charley to UCLA, he became the greatest mentor that anyone could ask for, providing insight, encouragement and support.

Jack now lives up in Oregon with his wife Kathy and two beautiful Labrador Retrievers, Shane and Annie. Shane has been a hard working therapy dog since 2010 and his half sister Annie since 2014.

In September, after a few months of unexplained symptoms, a biopsy revealed that Shane had nasal cancer. Jack didn’t throw in the towel. Instead he began fighting. There’s no one a dog could want in his corner more than Jack.

After several days at Washington State University, Jack and Shane left for the highly recommended Flint Animal Cancer Center at Colorado State University. Following another series of tests, including his 3rd CT scan, it was determined that the only chance for Shane was surgery to remove the tumor and all of his nose. Although Jack said, “It was difficult to look at images of other dogs that had undergone this type of surgery,” he knew that it had to be done.

On October 8th, Shane had what was believed to be a successful surgery. Still, his recovery was a difficult journey, involving further operations and hospital stays. Now he is back home in Bend recuperating in the comfort of family.

What makes this story so positive, aside from Shane recovering, is what Jack plans to do when Shane returns to work. He feels that with his facial deformity, Shane can be an inspiration to people who are dealing with similar problems. Dogs don’t judge themselves or others. For Shane, the loss of his nose is a non-issue. He just wants to love and be loved. That’s a very strong message to share.

From the Pretty Silly to the Profound

This week the Doods and about twenty of their costumed “co-workers” brought Halloween to the kids at UCLA Mattel Children’s Hospital. Dressed as everything from superheroes to ballerinas to cowboys, the dogs cheered up so many young patients and their parents. Even the staff got into the festive mood.

ELBEE I would have made a great Superman so why was I wearing those bouncy things on my head. And Gus was a pumpkin! Really? A pumpkin?

By the way, awhile ago Gus was thinking of renting an apartment with Tommy, his Bichon buddy, to get away from Stanley. Well I’m also thinking of relocating. Tommy’s person Donna dressed like a shepherd and let Tommy and his new sister Finley be her sheep, ergo no silly costumes. I wonder if she has an extra room.

GUS I think I’m going with him. Finley is little and cute and it seems like she kind of likes me. Plus, I don’t know if it’s my imagination but Stanley seems to be getting bigger every day. I’m concerned.

The Halloween excitement was actually a welcome change of pace from some very challenging visits that Gus and Elbee had done only a few days before. At UCLA, a palliative care specialist had tracked us down for an elderly woman who was desperately requesting a dog visit. She was in extreme pain but when Gus put his paws on the side of her bed, it seemed to bring her immediate comfort.

At Providence Tarzana Hospital, a rabbi asked us to stop in to see a young woman who was battling cancer. She was having an emotionally rough morning. Clearing it with the doctor, I brought the dogs in to see her. As Gus cuddled on the bed with her and Elbee stood by her side for petting, she was relaxed and chatting. The woman’s mother was visiting at the time and her relief was almost palpable.

That same morning, one of Tarzana’s palliative care specialists asked if we’d stop in to see the family of a man who was dying. They didn’t think he’d make it through the day. As we got to the door of the room, we were greeted so warmly and appreciatively by a man and a woman whom I believed to be the patient’s son and his wife.

For the next few minutes, we quietly talked as they interacted with the dogs. There was a sense of calm and connection. When it was time for us to leave, we all hugged goodbye. It was such a natural reaction that it was hard to believe only a short time before we had been total strangers.