Have a Grateful Heart

Some weeks are so difficult, it makes it hard to write a feel good post. I felt like that when wildfires were blazing in California. I even drove out to see the devastation for myself. The pandemic has given me pause. This week it’s the riots and the deaths in our nation’s capital.

What keeps me going is the hope that I can give people a moment of positivity.

ELBEE Trust me she is no Polyanna but she tries.

It’s also an opportunity to reach out and stay connected to family and friends, more important than ever with all of the social distancing. Coincidentally, a friend just left a message saying that she hoped I’d keep posting during these dark times.

Two things inspired me today. The first was the sweetener Truvia.

ELBEE Not again

As I mentioned a few weeks ago, there are sayings on each of the packets. They’re very positive, like a morning boost with your coffee. This one said, “Have a grateful heart.”

The second was the throwback photo on the left that a friend recently texted. It’s “baby” Stanley being  socialized at the gym in the hopes of following in his big brothers’ paw prints. It led me to find this photo of Stanley starting his first day as a therapy dog at UCLA Medical Center.

As I began looking back at older posts, I was so thankful for the photos. Here are a few of the special ones that I was given permission to share.

 

Charley and Elbee comforted my dear friend Tracy’s wonderful dad shortly before he passed.

 

 

Gus offered his special love to two very sick children.

Stanley cheered up a teen waiting for a heart transplant and helped a nervous student relax.

Although the situations were all difficult, the unconditional love of the dogs brightened each one. These photos brought it into focus. The therapy dog journey that I am privileged to share is an integral part of my gratitude.

I am so looking forward to the day when we are safe from COVID-19 and the dogs can go back into the hospitals. For now Zoom visits will have to do. They make it harder to get the patients involved and can be chaotic when Gus and Stanley compete for screen time but at least there’s a dog presence, even virtually.

On Zoom I put Gus and Stanley in silly outfits and have them do tricks. In the hospital all they have to do is sit on the bed or roll over for a belly rub. There is comfort in simply  petting or hugging them.

I will never forget the woman at UCLA whose baby was blind. I brought Gus into the room and she gently ran the boy’s hands and feet through his hair. Then she looked at me and quietly shared that it was his very first interaction with a dog. My heart will always be grateful for that moment.