With a Little Help from a Friend

I was in a quandary this week.

ELBEE A quandary? She must be taking one of those vocabulary for seniors classes.

Thanks to my dear friend Lillian, realtor by day and now agent for me and the Doods at night, we were going to be filmed at the hospital for a show that will air early next year on Animal Planet.

Lillian, by her own admission, is not a crazy dog lover, but she loves and supports the work that the dogs do. When she found out that her friend Salvy was co-producer of a program called Dog Masters, which features dogs with behavioral issues as well as a segment on working dogs, she immediately hooked us up.

ELBEE It was like a dating app for dog people.

Should I bring Gus who was experienced and would do a perfect job or should I bring Stanley, who at seventeen months, could go either way? That was my dilemma. After an informal poll, Stanley won by a slight margin.

On filming day we arrived at UCLA Medical Center and were greeted by Salvy, the hosts of the show Alex and Laura, as well as the crew. Stanley, sensing that the attention was focused on him, was in his element. He did drama for Alex. He kissed up to the camera man.

 

 

 

 

 

 

When I did an interview with the director, he stayed right by my side.

Doing room visits on the floors, I was so focused on Stanley that I almost forgot there were cameras following us.

ELBEE Unfortunately, she also forgot she was miked!

It was all about his interactions with patients and staff. It was about the reactions of crew members who had never actually seen a therapy dog doing his job. I can’t remember details of most of the visits we did that day but there is one in particular that stands out and has stayed with me.

The patient was a handsome teenage boy who had been hospitalized for months,  waiting for a heart transplant. He was so excited about meeting Stanley. He was delighted when I put Stanley on the bed and applauded when he did his tricks. Stanley even managed to “say his prayers,” which I didn’t know he had mastered.

What struck me most were the boy’s sweet smile and his positivity. He chatted about his own dog, his friends, about being away from home. I never heard a note of resentment. He amazed me and inspired me.

Dog Masters deals with problem dogs but it also shines a light on dogs who are heroes. How ironic, in that hospital room with my hero dog sprawled across his lap, I met a human hero.

 

 

 

 

 

 

And the Guilt Goes On

On Yom Kippur, not only was Stanley my partner in crime, but he stepped up to a big challenge, visiting the neuropsych units for the first time. Being unpredictable, it’s a more difficult environment. Stanley handled it almost like a pro.

CHARLEY  Of course he did. We were keeping an eye on him.

And yes, I’m obviously still trying to justify going in on the holiday.

ELBEE Oy vey. She needs to let it go.

 

 

My biggest concern was the kids under twelve, who often have a very high energy level. Stanley, at 16 months, is still a kid himself, so I could imagine him reacting to that energy. Somehow, he took it all in but managed to keep himself in check. With their giggly encouragement, he gave them “kisses” which he doesn’t usually do.

In the adult unit, before going in to see our group, we were asked to do a private visit with a patient who didn’t want to come out of his room. We walked in to find a very quiet, seemingly shy, young man wearing sunglasses. He spoke so softly that it was difficult to hear his voice, but as he petted Stanley I saw the trace of a smile on his face.

A few minutes later, while we were interacting with the patients gathered in the day room, I suddenly saw the young man standing in the doorway. Apparently, wanting to see Stanley again had given him the incentive to come out of his room.

The teens in the eating disorders unit, some who have been in and of the hospital for years, have a very special kind of love for the dogs. They always joke around and tell me it would be absolutely fine if I wanted to take off but leave the dog with them for the day.

ELBEE They’re not joking.

Stanley and I were on the large recreation deck with two of the girls from the unit. There was activity swirling around us but we were in a corner talking  baseball. One girl was a Dodger fan. The other was rooting for Washington. She said she’d think of me when they won. We don’t need to discuss that any further.

Suddenly, I felt a tiny stick lodged in the fur near Stanley’s paw. The girls immediately started to help me remove it. As we sat there working on it together, it struck me how beautiful and simple it was. We were just three people helping one big dog.

ELBEE Let us pray that this takes care of her Yom Kippur guilt for the year.

My Post Hospital Therapy Session With Stanley

 

 

The Yom Kippur Three Strikes Law

Wonder if there’s a three strikes law for Yom Kippur, a day of atonement, reflection and remembrance, a biggie as far as Jewish holidays go. If there is, I am definitely going to Yom Kippur jail.

ELBEE Where does she come up with this stuff?

This is the third time I’ve been to UCLA on the holiday. It always seems to fall on my regular day. Is it a test that I’m failing miserably? The last two times I’ve gone with my friend Donna who referred to us as “Yom Kippur felons.” She would bring her Bichon Tommy, Gus’s buddy. This year she couldn’t make it so Stanley and I were on our own

ELBEE Does Donna have inside information on the three strikes law?

CHARLEY  Did she even ask Stanley about his religious affiliation?

 

 

 

 

 

There really is strength in numbers. When you have someone aiding and abetting, you can share the guilt. Being there alone was a challenge. Fortunately, just as I was starting to question my decision (again) there were signs that I was doing the right thing.

As we walked by Maddie’s room, the surgery waiting area, a volunteer came running out and said that a family was having a very rough time and could use a dog visit. Their faces lit up when they saw Stanley. After a round of hugging and petting, they were relaxed and happy. Even if it was only for a few moments, they’d had a chance to breathe.

Outside of the ICU, a woman approached who was delighted to see us because she needed some dog love. As Stanley leaned against her while we chatted, she jokingly confided that her dog was a “brat.”

This went on all morning so by the time we left the hospital, I figured I was safe. Still, not able to leave well enough alone, I pushed it once more. How could I not watch the final game in the Dodger’s series against Washington. In my defense, it was almost sundown when the game started so I was sort of in the clear. When tragically they lost, I felt a tiny twinge of guilt.

On a serious note, on Yom Kippur I light candles in remembrance of some special people who, although they are gone, are still such a part of my life. My dad and my mom. It’s hard to believe she left us 50 years ago this week. My funny brother Stan. My dear friend Eileen. Too many others.

As I watch the candles flicker, I am comforted by memories of them. A part of me hopes that I’m making them proud, but an even bigger part of me hopes that I’m making them laugh.

 

 

Belly Rub

After the pet visit station at UCLA last week, Stanley and I were asked to do a room visit. Told that it was a “priority,” I felt a little concern. After all, you never know what you’re going to find when you knock on a patient’s door. It could be a child who smiles for the first time in days. It could be someone critically ill who is reaching out for a measure of comfort.

This time it turned out to be the best possible circumstances. “Priority” was a teenage girl who loved dogs, especially large ones, and had really been hoping for a visit. When I walked in with Stanley, the patient, her mom and a cousin got so excited you would have thought it was a surprise party, which, I guess in a way, it was.

Asking if she’d like Stanley on the bed, I got a resounding “yes.” I spread out a sheet and then helped Stanley step up gently. To the patient’s delight, he settled into her lap, well, the part of him that would fit in her lap.

What happened next was the highlight of the morning. Stanley has been taking a tricks class where some of the tricks are taught while a few are “caught” behaviors. This means if your dog sneezes or does something else regularly, you give it a name, reward it and it becomes a trick. For instance, Gus does an adorable little dance which, believe it or not, I didn’t teach him.

ELBEE Hello? If you’ve ever seen her moves you will absolutely know that Gus taught himself.

Stanley really doesn’t have a lot of caught behaviors but rolling onto his back for a belly rub is one of them. It’s his go to move if he wants attention, is in trouble or just relaxing. I whispered to the patient to ask Stanley if he’d like a belly rub.

That’s all it took. He sprawled out on his back, long legs in the air, just waiting for his belly to be rubbed. Everyone, including two nurses watching from the doorway, burst out laughing.

As happens on those very special visits, the hospital faded away. Thanks to a big, goofy dog, we were just a group of people, strangers moments before, putting problems aside and sharing a laugh. As a therapist at the hospital said to me recently, “the dogs do things that we simply can’t do.”