Looking to the New Year

I’m writing this post as the clock counts down to midnight on New Years eve. I may even do a load of laundry later.

ELBEE That is just sad.

As this crazy year finally comes to a close, like so many others, I’m trying to sort things out. Gus and Stanley are at my side, as they have been so often during the past several months.

It’s hard to believe how normal things were just a year ago and even in January and February. Then in March the realization sank in that life was not normal.

On March 11th I took Gus into UCLA for his recertification. Though it was our regular visiting day in the hospital, after I went to the conference room for his testing, out of an abundance of caution, I skipped our units. Then two days later the dog visits were all cancelled.

At the time we thought it would be temporary. Now here it is months later and we still haven’t been back into the hospital. This has been the year of Zoom and  virtual visits, two things I’d never heard of before.

A few days ago, I was walking the dogs in the neighborhood when two little girls on the other side of the street with their dad called out, “Hi Gus and Stanley.” Having only met the girls once or twice before and having socially distanced, I was surprised that they remembered their names.

They giggled as they asked if they could see Gus dance again or Stanley play peek-a-boo. I so wished I could have crossed over and let them hug the dogs.

It made me think about what other Dood things I’m looking forward to when, hopefully, the world turns right side up again this year.

Here are just a few:

The joy in the hospital lobbies when people see Gus and Stanley walk in the door

The noisy excitement of the kids in neuropsch at UCLA as soon as they see the dogs

The nervous or depressed patients who relax when Gus or Stanley cuddles next to them on their beds

The smile of the man at the adult health center who only smiles when the dogs are visiting

The hospital staff, patients and family members who say, “this made my day” as soon as they hug Gus or Stanley

The honor of holding their leashes as, once again, I am privileged to witness small miracles

Every one of their visits will be more special to me. Not for a moment will I take for granted that I have been given the gift of sharing my beautiful dogs, of helping people heal, beginning with Charley so many years ago.

From now on, every visit that we do, whether virtual or in person, will be dedicated to the thousands whom we have lost to COVID-19. May the love that Gus and Stanley give so freely honor their memories.