Ellen Morrow – Page 26 – Me and the Doods.com

Gus Does Cocktails…Again

This week, Dogs! A Science Tail opened at the California Science Center. It’s an interactive exhibit that explores the unique bond between humans and dogs. It just screams my name. Not sure how it happened, but I was fortunate enough to be contacted when they were in the planning stages.

ELBEE My reputation precedes her.

To make it even better, Gus and I were asked to take part in the Discovery Ball, a black tie gala that’s the annual fundraiser for the center. This year the theme, of course, was dogs. The guests, in their gowns and tuxes, saw K-9 units and search and rescue teams as they arrived.

As they entered the building, there was a green carpet for photos and an incredible wall with dog puppets handing out champagne. Then there was Gus to meet and greet everyone!

The dog can work a room. Gus used to be the sweet, quiet one. Although he is still sweet, he has totally embraced his inner diva. He danced. He offered up tricks on his own. His tail never stopped wagging and I swear he had a smile on his face.

Several people asked if it was okay to pet him. They were delighted when I assured them it was his job and he might take it personally if they didn’t. When I added that this wasn’t his first cocktail party, they laughed and said, “I can see that.”

ELBEE He’s starting to make me look humble.

It struck me that the contrast in dogs in the arrival space so beautifully illustrated a main theme of the exhibit. From police dogs, to service dogs, to sporting dogs, they interact with us in such different ways. Some you may not touch while they’re working. Others work to be petted. Either way, the strong human/canine bonds of trust, understanding and communication are always there.

On another note, the husband was with me for the evening as my “assistant.” Since he was in a suit and a dress shirt rather than a tux, watching from the edge of the crowd, people assumed that he was security.

ELBEE I would have paid to see that.

Up until that evening, he had only seen Gus as a dog, cute and loving, but just a dog.

THE DOODS Just a dog??

Over the years, he’s had slight peeks at what Gus can do but he’s never had the chance to see him in this kind of setting. He was used to the dog who quietly cuddles with us at home or sits on his ottoman “throne” barking at people who walk by the house. He has never seen Gus captivating an elegant but very appreciative crowd. In the husband’s words, he was “delighted, impressed, and mesmerized.”

This photo of Gus relaxing the next day says it all.

Hiking with a Coyote

This may be one of my dumbest posts ever in terms of judgment and subject matter but at the time it seemed brilliant. The daughters would definitely disagree with the latter part of that statement. I was taking one of my mental health hikes to put day to day stress in perspective. Among other things, Stanley was being neutered, the phone line in the house was down and we’d found a huge beehive under the roof.

It was an absolutely spectacular morning. The air was clean and clear after the rain. The spring wildflowers were starting to bloom. The views were breathtaking. I had made it up a steep trail and was on a plateau above dirt Mulholland when I saw what I thought was a dog off leash or maybe one that had gotten lost in the mountains. As I got closer, I realized it was a coyote.

GUS Coyotes off leash! I’m never hiking again.

I’m not trying to minimize what a huge problem they are in the neighborhood, especially for those of us with dogs, but I had to remember that I was in his or her territory. Actually, since it was International Women’s Day this week I’m going with “her.”

She walked along maybe ten feet from me. If I waved my trusty stick or talked to her, she’d move further away or disappear.

ELBEE OMG she thinks she’s the coyote whisperer!

Then, a few moments later, she’d pop up again. This may seem odd, but it was the calmest most natural interaction. She even yawned once or twice. I felt no fear at all, simply curiosity and in a way, lucky to be experiencing that moment in nature.

ELBEE That’s it. I’m calling the daughters. They’re right. She’s “cuckoo for Cocoa Puffs.”

We continued like that for about half an hour, with her appearing and disappearing. I have no idea how long it might have continued if a bike rider hadn’t come up the trail, followed by a hiker. Both of them stopped because they didn’t want to scare her off either. It still must have been too much because she ran off into the mountains.

ELBEE How many crazy people are up there hiking and biking?

The daughters would find so many things wrong with this whole adventure. They don’t even like it when I go hiking with the dogs, let alone a coyote.

ELBEE Let me add that just because I’m unavailable to hike (keeping my hair fabulous for hospital visits) doesn’t mean that she should be hanging out with my mortal enemy.

In my defense, I never tried to take a selfie with her.

ElBEE I rest my case.

Positivity

Recently, driving down Ventura Boulevard in Encino, I saw a large red and white billboard that simply said LOVE. I was so intrigued that I went home and did some extensive research to find out more about it.

ELBEE She googled it.

I learned that John Pogachar, a life and health coach, had launched a “Love On Every Billboard” movement to spread more of that “powerful word in our world. No agenda. Just Love.” The one in Encino was the first in California.

It inspired me to focus on more of the positives this week. I’m talking about the little moments that we may overlook, the moments of kindness and consideration that we should never take for granted.

ELBEE Oh no. I feel another something out of nothing post coming on.

STANLEY I’m just glad she’s not writing about me repeating intermediate obedience was her idea, not mine.

For instance, I was walking Stanley when a chihuahua with a big man complex started barking and lunging at him.

ELBEE Excuse me, that’s a positive?

In the chaos of getting her dog under control, the owner didn’t realize that she’d dropped her pink wallet. Shortly after she’d walked away, a couple, coming up behind us, saw it on the sidewalk and asked if it was mine. When I told them that I thought it belonged to the woman up ahead, the man ran after her to return it.

The other afternoon, as I was coming down from a long hike with Stanley, I ran into Lou, one of our mountain buddies. He waved as he was getting into his car. A few minutes later as Lou was driving by, Stanley, apparently not in the mood to walk to my car, plopped down on the ground and refused to move. Before I knew it, Lou turned his car around and stopped to ask if we needed a ride down. I don’t even know his last name but he went out of his way to see if he could help.

Tuesday, waiting for a friend to go hiking. I was standing at a dog park that’s adjacent to a trailhead.

THE DOODS And hopefully feeling guilty because we were all home.

Suddenly, an older man walked over, smiled, and without a word, handed me a yellow wildflower. Then he walked away with his dog. It was such a quiet, unexpected gesture.

This morning I went to a celebration of life for “mayor” Bruce, the incredible character from the gym who passed away recently. Bruce, like my friend Roberta who passed on New Years Day, lived life to the fullest with love and joy. They both welcomed challenges and refused to give in to negativity. To them, no meant yes. I will look to them and to the simple message on the billboard for inspiration.

Disorder in the Pack

Since Riley, our sweet Golden, passed, there has been a competition for pack leader. He was the quiet senior, the voice of reason. Charley before him was the gentle giant. Now the job should fall to Elbee, who thankfully has matured. Unfortunately for Elbee, Stanley and Gus are giving him a run for the money.

ELBEE What am I? The “spare heir?” I understand how Prince Harry feels.

It’s obvious that Gus with his long hair, cuteness factor and celebrity encounters has become quite a diva. He doesn’t want to take a back seat to anyone.

Stanley gives new meaning to the words, “attention seeking.” If I try to pet or brush one of the other two, he will literally shove them out of the way.

There also seems to be a big emotional adjustment going on and a lot of crying, especially for Elbee. He howled in his sleep, something he hasn’t done since shortly after we lost Charley. He also whimpered and carried on for the first fifteen minutes when I had the nerve to take Stanley and Gus for a walk without him.

ELBEE Hey, I’m a sensitive guy.

On a more positive note, the husband is now taking Elbee out every morning. Losing Riley was especially hard for him because their daily walks were such a special part of his routine. Elbee is really filling a void.

ELBEE I’m enjoying the walks but whereas Pack Leader (as she calls herself) is quite a yenta, the husband doesn’t stop to talk to anyone. I miss getting the latest gossip.

To add to the drama, the four grandkids were over. The older two are very comfortable with the dogs. This photo of Ryan sitting in my office with Elbee, his favorite, and Stanley is probably the calmest moment of the day

The jury is definitely out for the three and five year olds. As I’ve shared in the past, they like Gus because he’s little and cute. Elbee is not a favorite because he’s big and barks. As for Stanley, let me put it this way, they didn’t like Charley who was very large and very calm. Stanley is very large and not very calm. Plus, he loves kids so gets even more excited when he sees them.

As I look at the Doods sitting together, I realize two things. First, losing a close friend, a family member or however dogs sense it, may be different for dogs living in a pack. There truly is a shift in dynamics plus they grieve together but may also grieve differently. Second, and this is totally my opinion as someone who is addicted to Doodles, they seem to be sensitive, and yes, needy. They do drama.

I want to overshare one more thing. Since the “daughter editor” was busy, probably still trying to help her kids get over the dog encounter, I read this post to the husband. His comment, “That’s good. You made something out of nothing.” It’s a gift.

Gus is a Valentine

On Valentines Day, before joining the other “canine cupids” distributing love and holiday cards at UCLA Medical Center, Gus did some individual visits accompanied by a generous donor and a couple of his family members. They were interested in seeing first hand how the program worked. I was honored to have them with us. I truly believe that you can read about therapy dogs, hear about them or see them on the news, but there is nothing like watching the magic up close.

For our first stop, I tapped on the door of a teenage boy in the PICU. Lying in bed, he looked so sad but as soon as he saw Gus, his face lit up. Despite his pain, the boy had such a kind and gentle demeanor. When I asked if he’d like Gus on his bed, I swear that behind his glasses, I saw a twinkle in his eyes. Although he had difficulty moving, he was able to speak softly and wanted Gus even closer. Before I knew it, Gus was cuddled next to him with his head on the boy’s shoulder.

When it was time for me to take Gus from his bed, I asked if he’d like to see him do a few trick before we left. I didn’t think it was possible but as Gus danced, waved and played peek-a-boo, the boy’s beautiful smile grew even bigger. The moment was so touching, it brought tears to the eyes of the people who were watching.

We went to see another teen who was very happy and calm while she was petting Gus. Still, I have to say that it was her grandmother who was even more comforted. She could barely contain her emotions as she hugged him and told me in Spanish how much it was helping her. As a fellow grandma I could truly understand.

We stopped to visit with a toddler who giggled and greeted Gus like he was one of her favorite stuffed animals. Then I realized that she had met him a few weeks before when he came to her room with Kenta Maeda of the Dodgers.

Finally, we were asked to see a little boy about a year old who was blind. He had never had any sort of interaction whatsoever with a dog. While he sat in his mother’s lap, she gently stroked his hand through Gus’s long, soft hair. Then, since he seemed relaxed and receptive, she rubbed his bare feet along Gus’s back. I couldn’t believe that we were part of something so seemingly simple yet so momentous.

After all of his hard work, I took Gus to meet up with some of the other dogs. That’s when he saw Lola, an adorable little Poodle. Their eyes met and it was love at first sight. How perfect. The two dogs had spent the morning spreading love, and now they’d each found their own special valentine.

Oversharing in the Mountains

A few days ago, I was coming down from the mountains with Stanley when a young woman who had also been hiking stopped to admire him. She commented that his hair reminded her of her cat.

STANLEY What’s a cat?

ELBEE Oy vey.

As she was petting him, she asked me his name. When I said “Stanley,” she laughed and told me that was her boyfriend’s name. She was curious as to why I’d chosen it. I explained that Stanley was my wonderful brother who had passed away years ago. I added that he was very funny and that I was sure he got a kick out of it.

That’s when the flood gates opened. Hearing about my loss while surrounded by the beauty of nature with the comfort of Stanley in her arms, this complete stranger began sharing intimate details of her life. By the way, Stanley is nowhere near ready for a structured situation. He still chases his tail and barks at leaves blowing on the ground. Apparently, though, he is very good at trail therapy.

She told me that she’d lost her mother a few years earlier. Even though loss is different for each person, I shared that my mother had died when I was young so I could understand her pain. That’s when she opened up even more.

After losing her mother she realized that she really didn’t have an addictive personality so she stopped chain smoking and drinking. She also lost over 100 pounds. Still, she was dealing with unresolved issues of anger and grief.

I don’t know if my inner grandma took over or if it was having Stanley with us, but I tried to help. I could see by the expression on her face that a few of the things I said stuck a chord with her. It became a walking therapy session. Not sure how but even the daughters came up.

When we reached a water fountain in the park leading up to the trails, Stanley needed a drink.

ELBEE I bet he did.

She began to fill up a bowl that had been on the ground but before we knew it, he jumped on top of the fountain. Maybe this had all been too much for him.

ELBEE Of course it was.There was way too much oversharing all the way around.

She thanked me as we said goodbye. Heading to my car which was parked some distance away, it struck me how random this encounter had been. If I’d been walking alone, we probably would have smiled and just said “hi.” Because of the big, beautiful, goofy puppy by my side with the name Stanley, two strangers had a few moments of raw emotional connection.

Requiem for Riley

Riley, our Golden Retriever, passed away last week. He would have turned 16 in March. Even though he had been slowing down, he was still taking his morning walks with my husband. Then suddenly his body gave out. He was unable to stand up or lie down on his own. We knew that it was time to let him go with dignity.

His passing was peaceful yet so sad. After we lost Charley, his uncle, two years ago, Riley by virtue of seniority, became the pack leader. The Doods seem a bit lost without him. I wish there was a way to explain to them where he’s gone.

As a puppy, Riley joined Cody, our other sweet Golden and Larry, my brother’s Border Collie mix whom we adopted when my brother passed away. They were each nine at the time but Riley breathed new life into them. He kept them on their paws.

Riley was many people’s favorite, including two of the daughters (I’m not naming names). He was calm and mellow, especially compared to the Doods, who let’s face it, are a lot more attention seeking.

He’d sit by your side offering companionship and comfort without constantly having to be acknowledged. When someone came in the front door, he’d wait to be petted instead of almost knocking them over to get attention first. He was actually a great compliment to the Doods.

ELBEE I loved Riley and really miss him but I’m a little hurt by the comparison. For the record, as the new pack leader, I’m trying hard to watch over Gus and Stanley.

Riley was such a part of the family for so long, he even predated the grandchildren. It’s hard to remember a time when he wasn’t with us or to believe he isn’t with us now. Today when I was feeding the other three, I kept expecting him to walk in a few minutes later as he has in the past few months.

It’s also the little unexpected things that make us miss him even more. Riley loved to hang out in the laundry room. It was like his den. The only problem was that he would often sleep against the door leading to the garage. Every time we came home we had to gently push him out of the way to get into the house. This morning, I felt a twinge of sadness when the door opened easily.

Goodbye beautiful Riley. I hope we gave you the best life possible. Thank you for the gifts that you gave to all of us. We take comfort in knowing that Charley will be waiting to welcome you when you cross the rainbow bridge.

Gus is a Dodger Dog

ELBEE Oy, are you kidding me with that title?

It’s no secret that I’m a long time Dodger fan, the obnoxious kind who yells and screams. You can only imagine my excitement last Friday when several of the players made a special visit to UCLA Medical Center. Along with staff members, a few PAC teams were on hand to greet them. I brought Gus who, of course, was in a Dodger tee shirt with his ears, tail and paws temporarily dyed blue thanks to his “colorist” Marsha.

GUS I know she can’t help herself and I’ve been so many different colors that I’m starting to like it.

Donna, who is the person to Gus’s buddy Tommy, a Bichon, and I nearly lost it when their bus pulled up in front of the hospital. It was all we could do not to cheer when players like Cody Bellinger, Chris Taylor and Walker Buehler came through the door. It was almost surreal to be mingling with them. I think they were a little surprised to see the dogs, but seemed to love it.

Just when I thought things couldn’t get any better, I found out that each team would be partnering with a player to make patient visits. Pitcher Kenta Maeda would be joining me and Gus on pediatrics. Do you know how many times I’ve rooted him on or groaned when he had a rough game?

Once I got over “fan girling” as we were introduced to him and his interpreter, the next hour was truly beautiful. Faces lit up as we walked through the halls of the hospital. Kenta was incredibly sweet and kind to every single person.

It was when we went into the patients’ rooms that the magic happened. People did double takes when they saw a famous baseball player and a blue and white dog walk in to see them. With Kenta at his side and Gus cuddled on his bed, a young boy in the PICU quietly said that it made his day.

We walked into another room where the mother was a huge fan. The toddler in the bed was even wearing a Dodger’s baseball hat that had been autographed by several players. Kenta graciously signed the hat for her. Somehow Gus was lucky enough to end up wearing it. Gus also had a very special moment when Kenta picked him up and carried him!

ELBEE As a Dodger fan, I was maturely dealing with not being there but this photo put me over the edge.

When we made our way back to the lobby, I had the added treat of meeting Dave Roberts, the manager of the Dodgers. I’ve always loved his attitude and demeanor. He was as nice as I’d hoped. Unfortunately, when Gus and I, along with Tommy and his sister Finley, had a chance to take a photo with him, I came out with what was probably my dumbest fan comment of the day. I told Dave Roberts that I was a “granny groupie.” He managed not to laugh as he kindly said that he liked “granny groupies.”

Goodbye “Mayor” Bruce

Bruce Tufeld, well known agent and personal manager, passed away on Tuesday at the age of 66. To everyone at Braemar Country Club in Tarzana, he was the “mayor” of the fitness center. Perched on his favorite bike, Bruce held court. He knew everyone by name and they knew him.

After finding out from the big orange letters on his favorite sweatshirt that he was a graduate of Syracuse University, my alma mater, my husband and I nicknamed him Syracuse. He had a nickname for me too. One day I walked in with my hair spiked up, and from across the room, I heard, “Hey, Rod Stewart.”

Whether cheering on his beloved Dodgers or kidding someone nearby, Bruce loved to laugh and have a good time. The hours he spent on the bike were like a party. There was a certain energy in the room when he was there.

He had a very thoughtful caring side too. He knew that my grandson had health issues and would often quietly ask how he was doing. When younger people were working out, he’d inquire about their parents. When the parents were there, he’d ask how the kids were doing away at school. Often I’d see him engaged in deep conversation trying to help someone who had a problem.

Bruce never complained, that is unless something in the fitness center needed to be fixed. After all, he was the “mayor.” He had health issues like many of us do but I never heard him complain about them. The last time I spoke to him, he was very excited that he was heading back east the next day to meet his first grandchild. Bruce was a family man. And of course he was a dog person.

Assuming that he was still away, I was shocked to hear that he had passed. The only hint he ever gave was a comment a few months ago. We were joking about age, since I had a few years on him, when he suddenly said, “I’m sure you’re going to outlive me.” Then we both laughed.

I went there today and the room was quiet without his huge presence. It’s hard to believe that this year is so new and that both Bruce and my friend Roberta are gone. They were truly forces of nature. Like Roberta’s family, Bruce’s family is going to hold a celebration of his life.

In an obituary, I read the most positive message from his family. In lieu of donations, they asked “that you love every day and everyone as he did.” Rather than mourning, what a beautiful way to honor his life and to carry on his legacy.

Goodbye Bruce. We’ll miss you but we’ll think of you every time we look at your special bike. Thank you for your warmth, your kindness and above all your laughter!

The Year of the Doodle

In the Chinese Zodiac, this is the year of the pig. I’ve always loved pigs so was very happy to see that. As a matter of fact, I recently had the sweetest interaction with a 700 pound pig at the Gentle Barn animal sanctuary. When the daughters were little, I’d take them to the farm at Pierce College because they enjoyed seeing the pigs so much.

ELBEE I’m sure it comes as no surprise that I’ve eavesdropped on the daughters. They had about as much interest in the pigs as I do.

In my own personal Zodiac, this is the year of the Doodle. They were there for me as 2019 arrived. And it arrived with a bang!

ELBEE I hate to burst her bubble but isn’t every year the year of the Doodle?

On New Year’s eve day, my husband woke up with excruciating pain in his side. After a visit to the emergency room and extensive tests, it was determined that he had a pulmonary embolism, a blood clot in his lungs. The doctors decided to keep him in overnight for observation. The good news is that he is on medication and doing well.

While he was resting in the hospital, I went home and spent New Years eve with the Doods. Contrary to reports from the 10th anniversary party at UCLA, they are not big drinkers. There was no champagne involved but they were great company. We curled up on the bed and watched as the New Year was celebrated in 2 or 3 different time zones. We didn’t quite make it for the west coast.

ELBEE AND GUS For the record, we would not have turned down a nice glass of champagne if it had been offered. Stanley is obviously too young to drink.

On New Years day, my beautiful friend Roberta lost her battle with brain cancer. (Roberta) Although relieved that she was finally out of pain and at peace, I mourned her passing. As the Doods sat and comforted me once again, I thought about how many times they had comforted her.

With all that the dogs, even Stanley, did for me last week, I was pretty sure that this was my year of the Doodle. Then as I was looking for maybe another sign, I realized that the daughters had already come through with flying colors. For Christmas, one of them (I am not naming names) had given me a “Doodle Lover” tee shirt.

THE DOODS The shirt is fabulous. It brought tears to our eyes.

Another daughter had given me pajamas with a “Goldendoodle Mom” top.

THE DOODS I don’t think they got it quite right. It should really say, ‘Unpaid Doodle Employee.”

A happy, healthy Year of the Doods to all of you!