Ellen Morrow – Page 11 – Me and the Doods.com

Go to Your Happy Place

Not for the first time, my title was inspired by the saying on a packet of Truvia.

ELBEE She is no Shakspeare.

As soon as I read, “Go to Your Happy Place,” the mountains popped into my head. And with some of the craziness I’ve seen over the past few weeks, I really needed to go up there.

First there was the woman at the bank. The branch had been closed for a week so on the morning that it reopened there was a long line outside. People were politely social distancing as they waited to go in.

As I walked up with Stanley, I heard an extremely loud voice. It was a woman near the front of the line, who ironically was from another country, mocking people of different nationalities. I’d guess she dropped the f-bomb about twenty times during her ranting and raving.

Eventually a manager calmed her down and got her inside. After doing her banking, she was sitting on a couch refusing to leave until two customers she was pointing at were arrested. Unfortunately, the police arrived shortly after she had been convinced to leave, dropping more f-bombs as she headed out the door.

Then there was the older man with long scraggly hair, sitting in the passenger seat of his car parked near a busy trailhead. The door was open and his bare feet were sticking out. As I walked by with the dogs, I realized that his feet weren’t the only things that were bare. A woman in front of me was so flustered, she said “I’m getting out of here as fast as possible.”

ELBEE She can’t make this stuff up.

When I went to my happy place, it was if the universe knew that I needed a few positive signs. I found heart-shaped rocks embedded in two different trails. A friend told me they were good luck.

I saw a smiling face that someone had drawn in the dirt.

I was delighted to see the first bush sunflowers of the season in bloom, a hint of the glorious explosion of color that will soon cover the hills..

ELBEE Now she’s William Wordsworth.

At home in the evening, what lifted my spirits almost as much as being in the mountains, was hanging out with the Doods and watching the sun set over my happy place.

**Does this picture make my head look small?**

Hobnobbing with Henry

Originally this post was titled Hiking with Henry. Then I thought about the way he interacts with everyone on the trails. It’s more like hobnobbing. It’s as if he’s at a mountain cocktail party.

ELBEE Is she his date?

He takes a moment to assess people rather than running up and jumping all over them like perhaps a Goldendoodle.

ELBEE Excuse me for being gregarious.

His hesitation, which I think might be shyness, apparently comes across as good behavior. Large and calm, he draws a lot of attention. His size makes people more aware of his demeanor. Am I going to argue when someone says it’s nice to see a big dog who’s trained.

Learning that his mom is a Great Pyrenees and his dad a Poodle, countless people have commented that his demeanor is more like the Pyrenees. He’s patient, affectionate when he chooses to be and watchful. A woman saw him from a distance and called out, “He walks like a Great Pyrenees.” By the way, I am amazed at how many people have had Pyrenees in their lives.

Henry is also a hit with the kids. We met an adorable nine year old who’d been begging her mom for a dog. She saw Henry and said “That’s what I want.” Her mom laughed when I asked her daughter if she was going to take care of it and she gave an enthusiastic “yes.”

ELBEE Then she saw the size of Henry’s poop bag.

His hair stays party ready too. Neither Gus, Stanley nor Henry sheds but so far he doesn’t seem to get matted like they do. In the mountains, he shakes his head and the twigs and burrs fall right off of him. For the other two, I’m like a blow dry bar.

ELBEE It’s obvious. Pyrenees are too busy guarding sheep to get their hair done.

Coming down from the trails after one of our hikes, Henry even found the perfect ride. What are the chances we’d run into my friend Lou who was driving a vintage 1971 Corniche! I’ve taken photos of the dogs in my car, but this is how Henry “Rolls.”

ELBEE That was my line.

Reaching Out Again

Lately, on social media, I’ve noticed lots of photos of beautiful sunsets, flowers and lovingly prepared food.

ELBEE She’d have to post a picture of a take out container.

I remember this happening early on in the pandemic when people were trying to cheer each other up with some normalcy and positivity. Now, nearly two years later, with all of the divisiveness and uncertainly, we’re reaching out to each other once again. I’ve even started seeing some of the chalk art on the sidewalk that first appeared in the early days of COVID.

When I walk the dogs, it seems as if almost everyone stops just to say hello or to talk for a few minutes. I’m sure they’ve seen me with the dogs for so many years that there’s the comfort of familiarity. One man told me that I was a landmark in the neighborhood.

ELBEE Isn’t that an old building?

We have such a need to connect and Gus, Stanley and Henry are the bridge to that connection. A woman saw Henry from across the street and called out “I heard you got a new one.” She then ran over to meet him.

A man that I only know casually from the neighborhood was petting the dogs as he shared that his wife’s cancer had recurred. A workman with a U.S Army sticker on his truck hugged Henry as he told me that he had PTSD. These encounters would probably not have been the same before the world turned upside down.

We had a Zoom call this week, that thanks to the dogs, became another moment of connection. When we do virtual visits with the kids in neuropsych at UCLA there’s a lot of activity and interaction. I was a little nervous because one on one with a very ill patient is a different experience.

I was told that the patient loved animals and had requested a visit with one of the PAC dogs. He was very disappointed when told they weren’t allowed in the hospital right now, but agreed to a virtual visit.

Not sure if all three would be too much, I included Henry. As soon as I signed on and saw the smiles on the faces of the patient and his wife, I knew it had been the right decision. They laughed when I told them they were getting “three for the price of one.”

The conversation flowed comfortably as I introduced each dog. I told them about what they do and answered their questions. And yes, I showed them a few accessories.

ELBEE She couldn’t help herself.

As the patient tired and fell asleep, his wife and I chatted for a brief time before we said goodbye. I signed off, grateful that they had reached out.

Hanging with Henry

During all of our very special hospital visits in December, it was hard to imagine that at the same time last year, we were on Zoom. It was even harder for me to believe that last Wednesday we were back on Zoom. The dogs are out of the hospital until at least mid-January so a call with the teens in the neuropsych unit at UCLA was better than nothing.

On the bright side, Henry was able to join in. At seven months, he’s way too young to be certified to go into the hospital, but on Zoom, puppy antics can be pretty entertaining. The kids would rather see a dog chase his tail than do a perfect sit.

ELBEE I wish they’d had zoom when I was a puppy. I could have gone viral if that was a thing.

Competing with his brothers, Henry has become much more patient about accessories. He’s also learned about hogging screen time. Midway through I had to escort him out of the room for a few minutes so that Gus and Stanley could perform uninterrupted.

ELBEE Personally, I thought he was more entertaining.

Last month Henry graduated from beginning obedience. I admit there were moments I had my doubts like when all he wanted to do was was watch the children in the adjacent playground. He was also distracted by an adorable little puppy named Q-Tip. We had to separate them in class.

I was actually amazed at how well he responded to commands. I would like to take the credit but so much of it was from hanging around with Gus and Stanley.

To my husband’s delight, he has also learned how to fetch. Our last dog that would fetch was Cody, a Golden who predated all of the Doods by years. Even Riley, our more recent Golden Retriever, had absolutely zero interest in retrieving.

The way Henry brings the ball and hangs out with him has helped Doug get used to Henry’s size, since he wasn’t expecting him to be quite so large. Speaking of size, at his check up this week he weighed in at 73 pounds, up from 47 in October!

I brought Gus for his check up too to give Henry some moral support but it was totally unnecessary. Once Dr. Sanders dropped down on the floor next to him, Henry loved the attention. He even gave him his goofy smile.

As we were watching a movie last night with the dogs gathered around us, I realized that in these crazy times, I am especially grateful for the way that Henry, Gus and Stanley have integrated into such a copacetic pack. My husband and I have three live-in dog therapists.

Happy New Year…I Hope

In my Thanksgiving post, I shared how grateful I was that Gus and Stanley had been allowed to resume in person hospital visits. I was overwhelmed with joy at all they were doing in the month of December.

Still, there was a part of me that worried every time I heard how quickly the variants of COVID-19 were spreading. Then last week it happened. The other shoe dropped.

ELBEE Is that the appropriate expression?

I received an email from UCLA that the dogs wouldn’t be allowed into the hospital until at least the middle of January when everything would be reassessed. I wasn’t surprised at all, it was inevitable, but I was truly sad. In a way, it was a fitting end to a crazy year.

To continue on the crazy theme, we had more rain than I can remember in what seems like forever. It was welcome considering the drought we’ve been having, but created a few problems as it went on for hours. I received a text from my next door neighbor that a large tree had fallen and was blocking our street. If they hadn’t been out to dinner it would have landed on their car.

And do you know what it’s like to have three dogs who want to stay outside in a steady rain?

ELBEE Excuse me. Then why is she sitting there with them?

When Doodles get wet, they get soaked. It takes a lot of towels to dry them! We had already decided on a quiet New Year’s Eve at home. I just hadn’t planned on doing laundry.

ELBEE Interesting. She did laundry last New Year’s Eve too. Someone needs to get a life.

My husband Doug gets dual credit for this New Year’s picture. He’s already the in-house photographer. Now he’s the stylist. When I suggested the Dollar Store for props, he did so well that I may hire him again next year.

It can be a real challenge getting all three involved but it also brings some much needed laughter. In the chaos of tiaras and boas, they take us away from everything happening in the world. They add so much joy and comfort to our lives.

My hope for 2022 is that they will be back at work, doing what they do best.

Happy New Year!

Christmas Presence

This week, thanks to Gus, Stanley and two of their friends, I received more Christmas presents than anyone could ever hope for. It began on Friday when I took Stanley to Tarzana Hospital.

After warm greetings in the lobby, I was walking down the hall when I was drawn to an amazing picture on the wall. It was of a quilt with elastic at the sides to simulate a mask. The squares, designed by Providence caregivers, were touching tributes to the strength of the human spirit.

Moved by the messages and so happy to be there with Stanley, I took him upstairs to cheer up the staff. He was just what they needed, better than eggnog or a Hallmark movie, my guilty pleasure.

These pictures say it all. He got two spontaneous thumbs up. Then he offered some holiday love.

On Christmas day, my friend Donna and I carried on a tradition that we started a few years ago. We brought Gus plus her two Bichon, Tommy and Finley, to cheer up the young patients at UCLA Mattel Children’s Hospital. It was so special to be there because last year COVID-19 kept us away.

Tommy and Finley are Gus’s best buddies in the People Animal Connection. They’ve developed a beautiful rhythm in working together. Tommy and Finley are sweet and adorable. Gus kind of adds his own special style to the mix.

As we went from room to room, the dogs brought such comfort, even to the critically ill children. In some instances, it seemed to benefit the parents even more. The holiday is such a difficult time to have a child in the hospital. The visits gave them a moment to breathe.

While Tommy and Finley were cuddling with a young boy, I had Gus do his little dance and then put him in a Christmas hat. The boy smiled and even laughed softly. Donna later shared that when they had visited him a few days before there had barely been any reaction. The three dogs together had won him over, to the delight of his parents.

No matter how long you’ve had the privilege of working with therapy dogs, there is always a sense of wonder at seeing what they can do, especially at this time of year. Their simple presence is a priceless gift.

This was reinforced by all of the staff who came into the rooms with us. You could sense the smiles behind their masks. As we were leaving the PICU, one of the nurses commented, “This was truly a Christmas miracle.”

‘Tis the Season

As Gus and Stanley were doing holiday visits this week, it was hard to believe that around the same time last year, I was waiting for their Zoom call to start and seeing if I could still do a headstand.

ELBEE The pandemic made her do some very strange things.

My friend Mary had mentioned that she did one every day as part of her yoga practice so I became a little obsessed. It took a few attempts and the dresser for support but I did one and survived to go on the call with the dogs.

ELBEE It was hard to watch. Thank goodness they’re back in person.

Gus, his buddies Tommy and Finley, plus tiny adorable Abby, the newest member of the People Animal Connection, joined the UCLA marketing department for their outdoor Christmas luncheon. They were more of an opening act than featured entertainment but they still brought lots of joy to the festivities.

I had a special moment walking through the lobby to reach the garden. The seemingly reserved young man behind the reception desk saw Gus and broke into a huge smile. He thanked me so sincerely for being there and said that the dogs were such a blessing.

On Thursday, it was the big dogs’ turn. Stanley and Toby, a Bernadoodle, were the featured act at a pet visit station on the patio at UCLA, greeting people as they came in and out of the hospital. It’s only recently that the monthly visits have returned, so there was such excitement at having them back. I don’t think anyone walked by without stopping for some dog love. There were countless photos.

STANLEY I felt like a celebrity.

I admit there was another reason for so many photos… costumes. In the past, I had decked out the dogs for Christmas but Zoom really made me step up my game.

ELBEE Is she forgetting that she once dyed us red and green?

Not to mention that Jen, the manager of PAC, knows my weakness for dog accessories and has contributed to the cause. Sequin antlers, Santa hats, red sunglasses. It was Halloween in December.

With everything so uncertain, I am very grateful that, at the moment, the dogs are able to do what they do best. I am also grateful that dressing them up makes people happy. The smiles and laughter are true gifts of the season.

ELBEE I’m grateful that she doesn’t feel the need to do headstands at these events.

A Miracle Revisited

Wednesday, Stanley spent the morning comforting patients in the neuropsych units at UCLA. When we were leaving, I somehow found myself in front of the main 4th floor elevators instead of the core elevators that I usually take.

While we were waiting, a man walked over to see Stanley. As he was petting him, he quietly told me how much he loved the dogs in the hospital. He then began to share a story that explained the depth of his feelings.

Years earlier, his daughter, who was ten at the time, was a patient at UCLA. She had been in a coma for several days when a big white dog was brought in to see her, hoping for some response. As soon as he added that it was a Poodle named Apollo, I realized that he was talking about one of the most treasured PAC stories.

Laura, Apollo’s human partner, brought Apollo to his daughter’s room and placed him on a chair next to the bed. They all spoke softly to her and even placed her hands on Apollo to pet him. After awhile, when there was no response, Laura and Apollo left.

Ten minutes later, the miracle happened. His little girl woke up and asked for Apollo by name. The man looked very surprised when I said, “then you had someone call to have Apollo come back.” I explained that, like Laura, I had been a long time part of the program. In those early years I brought in my first PAC dog Charley, who looked a lot like Stanley.

At the time, the story about his daughter had truly touched my heart. It had shown me the possibilities of what the dogs could accomplish. It had inspired me. Hearing about it now, so many years later, almost brought me to tears

Before we left, the man took out his phone and showed me a photo of his daughter today, a lovely twenty-six year old woman. In this season of miracles, I am so very grateful for this beautiful encounter.

Gus Is a Solo Artist at Heart

With the ongoing challenges and uncertainty, or maybe because of them, the dogs have been in greater demand than ever. Watching them work after all of this time is its own reward.

On Wednesday morning Stanley visited the adult health center. As soon as we walked in the door, a few people, including the owner, called out, “make sure that ‘John’ knows you’re here.” “John” is the participant with severe depression who smiled for the first time in a year when the dogs were visiting. He came over with a little grin on his face and stayed with me and Stanley as we made our way around the large room.

In the afternoon, I took Gus to the CHS Plaza outside the Fielding School Of Public Health at UCLA. He was there as a stress buster for the students during finals. There were supposed to be two dogs but one had to cancel so Gus was a solo act. He was in his glory.

ELBEE He was like Diana Ross without the Supremes.

He couldn’t get enough of the the petting and belly rubs as one group after another came out to see him. The students forgot the stress of exams as we all sat around Gus, chatting and sharing dog stories. They loved it when I had him do a few tricks.

ELBEE She’s such a stage mother.

Things were going so well that I decided to bring out a few of the props that I just happened to have in my bag.

ELBEE Just happened to have in her bag?

I started using the props on Zoom calls during the pandemic to keep the kids in the neuropsych units engaged. They’ve added a little something extra to our in person visits.

Wednesday was no exception. The tiaras and sunglasses were a huge hit. There was nothing but laughter as lots of selfies were taken.

One girl was having so much fun, she almost forgot to leave in time for her exam.

GUS Oops!

On a side note. Thank you to the very considerate UCLA students who helped me find my way from the parking garage to the plaza. My sense of direction ranks right up there with my singing ability and my knowledge of football!

I Can Still Bench Press the Dogs & Other Things I’m Grateful For

In this uncertain world where watching the news can give you stomach pains, I thought it would be a good idea to focus on the positive.

ELBEE That is way too much information.

First, thank you to my husband Doug, my daughters, sons-in-law and grandchildren. My life would have so many empty spaces without you. A shout out to Jennifer for doing Thanksgiving. I am grateful that we could be together and that all I had to bring were my fabulous stuffing and sweet potatoes.

ELBEE Seriously?

Thank you to Doug for his steady support during the pandemic and for coming to terms with the fact that Henry is getting larger by the day

I truly appreciate the friends in my life. COVID-19 made it difficult for us to see each other but I always knew you were there. When you shared that my writing was bringing you joy, you brought me joy.

I am also grateful for the memories of family and friends who are gone but whose loving presence guides me. I will always hear the laughter of my brother Stan and my dear friend Eileen.

The mountains are still my spiritual space, my sanctuary. Standing on an overlook with the ocean in the distance gives me peace. Thank you to my mountain friends. We may not know each others’ names but I treasure our camaraderie.

I want to acknowledge the older couple who have made it their mission to clean up trash on the trails. I frequently see them coming down with bags full which is inspiring but sad at the same time.

Thank you to the bike riders who have finally gotten bells and actually say “thank you” when you move over to let them pass instead of trying to run you down.

ELBEE She can’t get past her issues with the bikers and that last statement is a bit sarcastic for a gratitude list.

I am deeply grateful that I have been able resume in-person visits with Gus and Stanley. A year and a half of Zoom calls was better than nothing but seeing them interact with patients, family and staff is heartwarming. I have been so touched by the incredible welcome back that we have received at UCLA and at Tarzana Hospital.

I feel so fortunate to be able to continue on this therapy dog journey that began fifteen years ago with Charley and then Elbee. The Doods have taught me about kindness, healing and unconditional love. They have filled me with gratitude.

ELBEE Finally it’s about us.

And I can still bench press them!

HENRY I didn’t sign up for this.

ELBEE I feel your pain.