October 2021 – Me and the Doods.com

Me and My Shadow

ELBEE It’s ironic that someone who is such a bad singer has a propensity for using song titles.

This post was going to be about Henry following Stanley around like his shadow, the same way that Stanley shadowed Elbee. To be honest, I was surprised that he followed Elbee rather than Riley, our late, very patient Golden Retriever.

ELBEE I resent that. I was a mentor extraordinaire.

Henry runs laps, plays tug-of-war and has spirited wrestling matches with both Gus and Stanley. Still, he seems to take his cues from Stanley. Even his brief puppy time outs are usually lying next to or on top of Stanley.

It’s so helpful with his training. When I’m about to head out the door with the dogs and I tell them to wait, he looks to Stanley for guidance. When someone comes into the house, instead of getting carried away with puppy exuberance, he mimics Stanley’s attitude.

As I said, that’s what I was planning to write about. Then, instead, goaded by Elbee’s voice, I began going off in a different direction. It may also be due to the stress of watching the Dodgers play.

Actually, the title song of this post, aside from relating to the dogs, has very sentimental meaning for me. My dad used to sing it when I was a kid.

We spent summers at my grandparents’ resort in the Catskill Mountain. It was like Dirty Dancing without Patrick Swayze. On weekends, my dad would emcee the hotel shows. He would often sing when he was onstage. Goodnight Irene and Me and My Shadow were two of his favorites. I can still picture him.

For so many of us, special songs entertain and bring back memories. Music has been found to be very therapeutic. At UCLA, before COVID, there was sometimes a woman in the lobby playing a harp. Leaving the neuropsych units with the dogs I would often chat with another woman who was waiting to go in and play keyboards for the patients.

There is so much laughter whenever I have the kids sing while Gus is dancing or Stanley is dancing with me. I wonder if I could take it a step further. If I really practiced, maybe took lessons, could I improve my singing? After all, my father and brother could each carry a tune. Then I could integrate it into my hospital visits with the dogs. It would be a win/win situation.

ELBEE Only if the patients were hard of hearing.

A Therapeutic Morning

**Gus & his “cousins,” Finley & Tommy**
**Dec. 2019**

This week, Gus met up with his “cousins” Tommy and Finley for a special visit at UCLA. Their person Donna and I have often worked the three together with great success. Wednesday was no exception.

Recently the staff in one of the medical office suites experienced a traumatic event and called on the dogs for help. A co-worker had suddenly lost consciousness and collapsed at her desk. Despite great effort on their part, she was admitted to the ICU where she is still a patient.

Her friends and colleagues, having extreme difficulty coping, reached out to the People Animal Connection, hoping that the dogs could provide some much needed support.

Donna and I had no idea what to expect but as usual the dogs knew just what to do. From the moment that Tommy, Finley and Gus walked in they worked their magic. They were sweet and loving with no expectations.

Group after group gathered around them in corridors and at work stations. People were smiling, laughing and hugging the dogs. Everyone had their phones out for photos. Some were sharing pictures of their own dogs. For a brief time, they were able to escape from their grief and anxiety.

Someone knocked on a doctor’s office door to see if he might like a visit. I don’t think I have ever seen anyone’s face light up so quickly at the sight of the dogs. With a huge smile, he immediately lay down on the floor with them. He was the personification of the joy of pet therapy.

Sorry to break the mood but I have to be totally honest. The morning didn’t go without a slight hitch. When we were taking our three little heroes out for a potty break, Gus peed on Tommy.

GUS It was a complete accident. I can’t believe she shared that.

ELBEE Talk about taking a left turn into inappropriate.

If We Ever Needed Therapy Dogs…

A recent Los Times Angeles article spoke about how front line workers are currently reporting high levels of stress and anxiety. To cope with the emotional exhaustion, they are using everything from therapy to support groups to meditation. It was no surprise that many are turning to dogs for comfort. Some nurses are even certifying their own dogs to help each other out.

The article was reflective of what’s happening at UCLA. The patients, of course, are happy to have the dogs back. A boy in the neuropsych unit quietly shared that he had known all of the Doods since Charley and how much the visits meant to him. A man being wheeled to the elevator on a gurney smiled and waved. So did the orderly pushing him.

It’s that orderly and others on staff who need the support more than ever. Over the past few months, I’ve written about the warm welcome back to the dogs but the situation has intensified. I’ve lost count of how many times I’ve heard nurses and doctors say, “Thank goodness the dogs are back.” People on staff have hugged Gus and Stanley as they’ve looked up and said, “I don’t know how I’d have gotten through the day without this.”

During my last visit to UCLA, I stopped in the volunteer office with Stanley. The reception was warm and loving. When I mentioned how touched I was by the reaction of the staff, one of the volunteers said she knew exactly what I meant.

She happened to be in the hall when someone from the People Animal Connection walked by with her dog. Immediately, a group in hospital uniforms gathered around simply to have a moment. The volunteer saw such emotion, such joy and relief, that it brought tears to her eyes.

Over the past fifteen years I’ve often shared the wonder I feel at being a part of what Charley, Elbee, Stanley and Gus have been able to accomplish. They have taught me about unconditional kindness. They have shown me miracles.

The pandemic has brought my appreciation of their abilities and my sense of responsibility to new levels. Knowing what the dogs can do and then seeing it taken away when it was most needed was so difficult.

Watching them help the healing process in this new, uncertain world, I feel a deeper sense of gratitude. I am also inspired to hang in there with Henry as he finds his place.

On a totally separate note, if the Dodgers had lost the series in San Francisco, there wouldn’t have been enough therapy dogs to comfort me!

Leader of the Pack?

ELBEE Somehow that title makes me want to sing.

There is cause for celebration on the sleeping front. Instead of barking at five a.m., Henry now waits for me to come downstairs with Gus and Stanley around seven and then greets us enthusiastically. Surprisingly, Gus, who can be a diva, seems especially happy to see Henry.

GUS I’ve actually grown quite fond of him, although I don’t understand how these SHORT dogs keep ending up taller than I am.

ELBEE Poor Gus is developing a Napoleon complex.

They’re getting along so well, it’s as if they’ve formed a three-pack.

ELBEE A three-pack? Seriously?

When a friend asked me who was the leader of the pack, I really had to think about it. There was no Elbee in charge.

ELBEE And there never will be another one quite like me.

In the house, Henry takes his lead from Gus and Stanley. Although I’d like to take the credit, it’s mostly due to them that he’s does commands like sit, down and stay. He likes to cuddle next to them for naps and waits with them when it’s time to eat.

When the plumber Pete was here the other day, instead of being goofy puppy, Henry greeted him calmly with the other two and relaxed with them while Pete worked.

ELBEE And that is interesting, why?

I think I would have to say that Stanley is the “indoor” pack leader. Henry is particularly attached to him, sometimes too attached. He follows him from room to room like a shadow. I have even caught Henry watching a Dodger game next to him.

The reason I said “indoor” is because once the dogs are out in the yard it’s a whole different ballgame. It’s Henry’s time to play and he wants the other two involved. He turns into everyone’s nightmare of a personal trainer.

He barks in Gus’s face until Gus finally gets up and runs with him. Barking won’t work with Stanley, so he sits on him or hangs from his hair.

GUS He is keeping me in fabulous shape.

STANLEY If he makes one more spit ball out of my hair I may lose it, but my hundred yard dash has really improved.

Henry won’t stop until they’re all chasing each other around, wrestling or playing tug-of-war. When they’re finally worn out, they collapse near each other on the grass.

When you bring a new puppy into the mix, it’s a lot of work and you never know quite what to expect. You just hope and try for the best. I am so happy for the way that Henry has fit in with Gus and Stanley. During these still uncertain times, watching them together has brought so much joy and laughter.