Lately, it seems that my posts have been focused on Gus and Henry. This week, it’s Stanley’s turn. He’s been part of some very special moments.
When we walked into Tarzana Hospital recently, Stanley 
ready for Christmas, a security guard called out, “Hey, it’s Stan the Man.” The comment caught me off guard. That’s what people often called my late adored brother Stanley who, coincidentally, lost his battle with cancer at that same hospital many years ago. Stanley, perhaps sensing my emotion, leaned on me.
Stanley has been doing a lot of street therapy too. He’s a very calming presence. The other morning, a woman called from a distance, asking me to wait. As she and her little girl approached, she shared that she remembered what Stanley did and seriously needed some dog therapy. I could literally see her relax as he cuddled next to her while she petted him.
Walking with him by my side in a particular area of our neighborhood, I’d started noticing white bows tied to the lampposts. Initially I assumed they were for the holidays but knowing there had been an alleged triple murder in the area, I wondered if there might be more to it. I was drawn to them.
It’s no secret that Stanley loves mail carriers. He stops in his tracks and almost cries until I take him over to visit. Yesterday, one carrier, whom we know well, pulled over to chat. While Stanley was trying to climb into his truck, I asked if he knew anything about the while bows. Sadly, it was what I suspected.
Sorry to go down this dark path but it really touched me. The family who passed was on his regular route. He said that that the three victims, the wife of the accused and her parents were always warm and friendly, waving to him. The three little boys would run up and ask for the mail. The man who is accused never spoke to him.
A neighbor, who was only an acquaintance, really wanted to do something positive. She shared with the mail carrier that she began putting up the white bows as a sign of hope. Every night she lights a candle for the victims.
Her response to the tragedy moved me so deeply. How important, even in the darkest times, to reach out with a message of hope, healing and remembrance. Once again, Stanley, sensing my emotions, leaned on me to offer comfort.
As we were leaving the area, I noticed this bow next to what appeared to be a tiny dollhouse. I looked inside and saw a candle.
