Author: Ellen Morrow

Since I stopped writing my weekly blog, I realize there are times I miss oversharing. Also, selfishly, I don’t want to forget special moments.

This post is a few weeks late for Thanksgiving, but do we really need one particular day to celebrate gratitude? It was inspired by my grandkids and the Doods.

ELBEE Not necessarily in that order.

Dogs truly are man and woman’s best friends. Despite knowing everything about us, they are faithful, loyal and loving without judging.

ELBEE Trust me. We judge.

As for grandchildren, they are one of the perks of having kids. They bring so much joy without all of the responsibility. They may judge me a little but will write things off to my being “crazy grandma.”

For instance, I have an unfortunate habit of laughing hysterically at inappropriate times, like funerals. During Thanksgiving dinner, 9 year old Ryder requested we go around the table and tell what we were grateful for, something we have often done in the past. Then he added that it was because he wanted to see grandma crack up. Yes, it’s one of those serious moments where I feel on the spot and lose it. Trust me, I didn’t disappoint.

Ryder used to be terrified of dogs even though he’d never had a negative interaction. A year or so ago, Henry with his soulful eyes and gentle demeanor, somehow reached him. On the back of Henry’s UCLA trading card, his greatest accomplishment is listed as “Helping Ellen’s grandson overcome his fear of dogs.”

Ryder has gone from overcoming his fear to really being comfortable with the dogs. On Thanksgiving he decided that he wanted a holiday picture with them. His sister Bella, a very willing participant, was included. Knowing my stash of dog accessories, he couldn’t wait to dress up, or should I say decorate, everyone. He actually was the “art director” for the photo that motivated this post.

It touched my heart to watch Ryder, who used to run away from the dogs or scream when they came too close, picking out headbands and glasses for each of them. It was such chaotic delight.

I also have to give kudos to Stanley, Gus and Henry for their patience. It may be the magic of their therapy dog energy that made it all possible.

Yesterday, after picking up Gus, Stanley and Henry from their wonderful groomer Jen, I headed to the gas station. They looked beautiful after their baths, big and fluffy. Gus was in his special spot in the front seat. Stanley and Henry in the back. It was a perfect day so I had the windows and sunroof open.

As I was trying to pull into the station, a car, halfway out, was blocking the driveway. I was starting to get really annoyed.

ELBEE Annoyed? Is that what she calls it?

Then I noticed that the driver, a bald man, probably around 60, was looking over and making a heart sign with his hands. He began smiling and gesturing toward the dogs. Then, laughing, he pointed to my hair and his own hairless head. It was such an unexpected, fun moment.

I took these photos when we got home to show his point of view.

I felt moved to share this simple story because I think we all need some positivity right now. There is so much stress and dissension in the world, that this fleeting encounter was a welcome time out for me and I hope it will be for you too.

Although I made a New Year’s resolution to stop writing my blog and work on a book, resolutions are made to be broken. Book writing is very solitary so I missed sharing with friends. I also missed bragging about the dogs.

ELBEE Some would say oversharing and it’s not only the dogs she brags about.

Okay, Elbee may be right. I’m kind of bragging about myself. I’m also trying to inspire some of my fellow seniors and maybe a few juniors too with this very belated birthday post.

Lately, when I talk to my fellow SENIORS, we all agree that this aging thing sucks. By the way, if 65 sounds young to you, you’re a SENIOR. Also if someone tries to make you feel better by saying, “consider the alternative,” you’re also in this group.

Several years ago I began the tradition of climbing the “butt burner” to celebrate my birthday. The name is self-explanatory. It’s a very steep, challenging local trail. It was not the brightest idea since my big day is in July, one of the hottest months of the year.

ELBEE She should be in a senior cooling center instead of traipsing around the mountains.

After a few “butt burners” in the summer heat, I came to my senses. I began a new tradition, a solo birthday hike from the valley to the sea. It’s around 9 miles, and ends up on the cooler, breezier side of the mountains.

This year I used excellent judgment. Instead of going on my actual birthday, I waited until the 110 degree heat wave broke. Unfortunately, it’s back.

On another positive note,  just when I was convinced that the unrelenting heat had fried some of my creative brain cells, being out in nature got them spinning again. As you can tell, I could even hear Elbee.

When I started out, there was an immediate sense of comfort, of freedom and of peace, things that are sometimes hard to find in today’s world. The mountains truly are my happy place.

As I walked, I took in the breathtaking views, set my own pace, had time to reflect. My brother Stanley passed in the summer over 28 years ago and I knew that he was watching over me and laughing.

This photo was taken at the Hub Junction, a well known meeting place along the beach route.

ELBEE I don’t know which is more disturbing, that she’s doing the walk alone again or still having strangers take her picture.

After around four hours, I arrived at Temescal Canyon Gateway Park. It had taken a little longer than I remembered and the weather was a bit warmer than I expected, but it was still perfect. I had such a quiet sense of accomplishment.

What surprised me was that I wasn’t as tired as I thought I would be. I couldn’t have gone line dancing but I felt pretty good.

ELBEE She doesn’t know how to line dance.

My husband Doug and my special “driver” were waiting for me at the “finish line.” Grandma had made it! And you can make it too!

ELBEE Sorry to break the mood but I have a bone to pick with this sign. No dogs? Seriously? And that takes precedence over poison oak?

In the past, I have suggested making really easy New Year’s resolutions so that you set yourself up for success. I mean, who wants to feel like a total failure when you blow them a week later.

For instance, last year, I resolved to cook less.

ELBEE I didn’t think that was possible but she did it.

Just for the heck of it, you can also make some that are totally out of reach. If you succeed you’ll feel awesome. If you don’t, it was a stretch but at least you gave it a shot.

ELBEE She considers that a win/win.

I contemplated trying to get into the Guiness Book of Records as the world’s “Strongest Granny,” figuring I wouldn’t have much competition. Actually I’m not even sure if that’s a thing. On the bright side, I’ve been lifting heavier weights at the gym.

This year I’m going in a different direction. I’m making a very challenging resolution. It’s so challenging that I’m sticking with just one. I’m finally going to write a book about my journey with the Doods.

I’ve been thinking about it for awhile and friends have been urging me to do it, but I just wasn’t sure. Then this morning I got a sign from the universe. My packet of Truvia read, “NOW IS THE RIGHT TIME. GO FOR IT.”

ELBEE I can’t believe she’s still taking inspiration from artificial sweetener.

I already have a working title and a friend who has been an integral part of the journey has offered to write the forward. Now I just have to do it. I wrote a book years ago, (“The Desperate Woman’s Guide to Fitness, the Secret to Aging Like Fine Wine Instead of Going Flat Like Stale Beer”), but have no idea how I managed to do it.

I know it will be difficult but going through the memories, starting with my first therapy dog Charley, will be a joy. I have been blessed by working with the Doods for so many years. I hope I can find the right words to really share what I have experienced. And yes, Elbee’s voice will be heard.

ELBEE Of course it will.

A very sincere thank you to the friends who have supported and encouraged my writing. You have kept me going. I won’t be doing a weekly blog but will post updates on social media, assuming I can figure out how to do it.

Wishing everyone a very happy, healthy new year. Let’s all resolve to share consideration, kindness, love and joy.

Last Monday morning, I put up a post revisiting the tragedy that took place near my home in Tarzana, including the white ribbons of hope that had been placed on every light post.

Later that morning, I went up into the mountains, my spiritual place. As I was walking, deep in thought, I suddenly saw a rainbow, a rarity in Southern California. It was far to the north and somewhat obscured by clouds, but it seemed like a sign.

It filled me with joy and reminded me that although we are dealing with so many problems in the world, in this holiday season we can find notes of hope, healing, love and joy.

ELBEE As long as she doesn’t sing those notes. That would be painful.

Speaking of notes, last week, during a visit with Stanley to a group of patients in an adult neuropsych unit at UCLA, we somehow got on the topic of singing. I am tone deaf and think it’s such a gift when someone can sing.

One young man quietly shared that he could play several instruments, including the piano. Moments later, with a bit of encouragement, he was at the small piano in the room playing Elton John’s Your Song. He finished to enthusiastic applause.

As we were leaving the units, a woman, sitting with some family members in a waiting area near the elevators, came running over to see Stanley. As she dropped to the floor hugging him, laughing and crying, she said he was just what she needed.

The presence of the dogs is so important at this time of year. Holidays can normally be stressful but being ill or having loved ones in the hospital magnifies that stress. Gus, Stanley and Henry are receiving as much love as they’re giving.

On a bright note, it was time for the Doods Christmas photo shoot. This year was even more fun because my dear friend Mary was helping out. There was only one small glitch. Henry has known Mary since he was a puppy but hasn’t seen her in months because she was back East. When she came in through the garage with me, the watchful Pyrenees part of Henry decided she was an intruder. He became very standoffish.

When he suddenly realized who she was, he couldn’t have been sweeter. He was licking her face and leaning on her, almost as if he was apologizing for his memory lapse. I immediately appointed her prop master and wardrobe consultant.

Wishing everyone a Merry Christmas from me and the Doods. Let’s all reach out to each other with kindness. Let’s look for signs of hope in the universe.

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.

Thanks to the Doods, I’ve had a very busy social life lately.

ELBEE On her own, she’d be kind of a wallflower.

Recently, Resnick, the neuropsych institute at UCLA, held its annual wellness festival. It’s a very upbeat event with lunch, sometimes karaoke, games and an award ceremony, with surprisingly short, touching acceptance speeches. The dogs were invited as featured guests, so I got to go along.

Stanley and Gus have attended before but this year I brought Henry.  I’m not sure why, but Henry hasn’t done much in the way of hospital room visits yet. He’s more of a special events kind of guy. Gus is his wingman.

Before heading up to the party, we stopped in the People Animal Connection office to pick up Jen the director. To put it mildly, the office is on the small side.ELBEE We affectionately refer to it as the closet.

As soon as Gus and Henry stepped into the party, it was as if the sun came out.

ELBEE Well, it was outside.

I love how the mood brightened when people saw the dogs. They started smiling and nudging each other. Doctors, nurses, therapists, greeters, it seemed like everyone came over for some dog therapy.

I’ve been going to Resnick for years, so a lot of the staff have known the Doods, some as far back as Charley. This was their first meeting with Henry which made it even more special.

Speaking of special, Noel, who works in the NPI, and I have become good buddies and have developed our own special ritual. Somehow Noel found out about my bodybuilding past.

ELBEE Is there anyone who hasn’t heard about it?

As someone who works out, it inspired him,   especially since I’m a senior. He jokingly began calling me Ms.Venice Beach. I told him it was “Grandma” Venice Beach. Then one day, not sure how it happened, we challenged each other to do pushups, agreeing on twenty.

There we were in a hospital corridor doing pushups. And yes, there we were at the wellness festival doing pushups. Strangely, no one seems to react and this is about our fifth time. Well, my daughters did say it was “horrifying” when I told them about it. I say, long live the tradition.

 ELBEE Oy! She can’t help herself.

Seriously, I owe a debt of gratitude to Noel and all of the others we’ve worked with at Resnick. Everyone has always been so kind and helpful. Thanks to the staff, the dogs and I have had such positive interactions with patients of all ages. It was a pleasure to celebrate wellness with them.

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.

Looking back over some of my Thanksgiving posts, chaos seemed to be the driving theme. Having the whole family together, including my grandson Ryder, who had an innate fear of dogs, could get very hectic. The fact that most Doodles crave attention made it even worse.

ELBEE He didn’t even like me. Can you imagine?

This year was different. Although not exactly Norman Rockwell material, it was spirited rather than chaotic. We even played games like celebrities claim they do.

As for the grandkids and the dogs, Ryder’s ten year old sister Bella really likes them. My teenage grandkids Samantha and Ryan, are kind of “whatever” because their mom, Jennifer, has persuaded them that grandma’s a bit crazy with her dogs.

The major change was Ryder. On his last visit a few months ago, he overcame his fear of the dogs. Hard to believe but huge Henry was the catalyst. My son-in-law Jay sensed Henry’s gentle nature and encouraged Ryder to give him a chance. It went so well that on the back of Henry’s UCLA trading card, his greatest accomplishment is listed as “helping Ellen’s grandson get over his fear of dogs.”

I won’t lie. When they first arrived on Wednesday and the three dogs excitedly ran to the door, Ryder forgot that he wasn’t afraid. But to my relief, within five minutes, he was smiling and petting all three.

I was amazed at how Ryder’s whole attitude had evolved. With lots of treats, he and Bella had the dogs doing basic commands and a few tricks. Having the two big ones weave through their legs had all of us laughing. When we went on a hike without the dogs, Ryder wanted to go home and see them.

This was a special holiday in another way. It was Ryder’s eighth birthday! Knowing all of my dog props, he was very excited about picking out accessories for a birthday photo.

My daughters have a running joke pretending (I think) that they aren’t sure which dog is which and how much I look like the dogs. They even brought up my very memorable cameo in the movie I Love You Man where I was called a “bowser” for just that reason. I mention it because when we took this family photo and Stanley unfortunately got cut out, Jennifer wanted to know if that was me or one of the dogs in the picture.

ELBEE That’s hysterical.

On a bittersweet note, having lost my parents before my kids were born, I feel such gratitude for my grandkids and for the laughter.

When it comes to the Doods, Gus has the cuteness factor going for him. Stanley is like a big cuddly bear. With Henry it’s something different.

ELBEE He has a certain je ne sais quoi. Yes, I speak French.

When people see a large, tall dog like Henry, they will often shy away. Then, from a distance, they’ll ask if he’s friendly. Once I assure them he is, it’s a love fest.

Henry is always ready to go out and about with me. As soon as I reach for the car keys, he heads for the door. Actually, I like to take him because it’s so good for his socialization.

ELBEE And hers too

He seems to make people open up. This week, I took him with me when I was having my car serviced. A woman who had also dropped off her car, came over to meet Henry. Hugging him, she told me how much she wanted a dog. She had recently lost two in a divorce and confided that she missed them more than she missed her ex.

ELBEE I think that’s oversharing.

A saleswoman’s face lit up when she saw Henry. She invited us to walk around the lot with her while she checked inventory.

My next stop was to buy hiking boots at a very dog friendly store in a dog friendly outdoor mall. Not only was the girl who was helping us delighted to see him, but when we were leaving, people were calling out his name.

A few days ago, a man pulled his car over while we were out walking. With a big smile he said, “You win the award for cutest dog in the neighborhood.”

ELBEE I hope Gus and Stanley don’t hear about that.

On a more serious note, Stanley had a special encounter of his own. Out for a walk, we passed a street that was lined with news vehicles. I realized it was where a man had allegedly murdered his wife and in-laws.

Suddenly, the window of a Channel 7 news van rolled down and the driver called out to ask if it was okay to come see the dog. When I assured him it was, he and a young woman got out of the truck.

As they petted Stanley, I shared that he was a therapy dog. They agreed that’s just what they needed. As if on cue, Stanley started leaning against the man. I said that’s what he does when he senses stress. Laughing, the man said, “He’s got that right.”

That evening, I was at the gym talking to a fellow dog enthusiast about how much comfort and love the dogs provide in all sorts of circumstances. He whole heartedly agreed and put it in a way that I hadn’t thought of before. He said, “they offer a safe zone.”