Last week I received an anniversary card in the mail. I was a little surprised since Doug and I got married in January, but when I opened it, I found it was from UCLA, celebrating my seventeen years of volunteering with the dogs. There was a lovely personal note from Carey, the head of the department.
When I walked into the hospital in November of 2006 with gentle giant Charley, my first therapy dog, I was so nervous, just trying to get through one visit at a time. Little did I know where the journey was going to take me or how profoundly it would change my life.
Charley’s half-brother Elbee, a true character, joined us a few years later. His voice still haunts my posts.
ELBEE I prefer, “enhances.”
Nine years ago we were fortunate enough to welcome Gus when someone had to rehome him. The family simply asked that we “give him a good life.” So far he’s had a great life. He’s the senior member of my current very copacetic pack with Stanley and Henry.
In all of this time and with all of the dogs, virtually every visit and every event has been special. Some have been sad, some touching and some just fun. I am so glad I have this written record to help me remember.
We have visited schools, hospitals and day camps, including one for special needs kids. The dogs taught an anti-bullying group from Compton about love and kindness. At UCLA they were special guests at the opening of the new hospital and at the ten year anniversary. They have met Dodgers and Lakers. During COVID, they did Zoom calls to cheer people up.
There are certain poignant memories that stand out. At Tarzana Hospital we were asked to see a man who was dying. The only thing keeping him alive was waiting for his adult children to come say good bye. His wife seemed to breathe a sigh of relief as Charley walked into the room. The patient managed a faint smile as he fed Charley a treat.
Almost since the beginning I have taken the dogs into Resnick neuropsych at UCLA, working with patients of all ages. One day as I was about to have Stanley “say his prayers,” where he puts his paws on a chair and bows his head, a young man asked if he could say his prayers with Stanley. When I told him, “of course,” he knelt down next to him and said, “God, thank you for bringing Stanley the dog here today.”
A teenage girl in Resnick had tears in her eyes but was smiling as she held Gus. She whispered to me, “this is the first thing that’s made me want to live in a long time.
Thank you to all of my wonderful Doods, past and present. You have touched my heart with your unconditional love and kindness. You have shown me miracles.
