Ellen Morrow – Page 27 – Me and the Doods.com

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!

Roberta

On New Years day, my magnificent friend Roberta lost her battle against brain cancer. Not only was she a legend in the fields of education, law enforcement and government, she was a legendary friend. The glowing obituaries about her achievements can’t begin to capture her personal magnetism and power. She was so much more than a public figure.

Never one to brag about her own accomplishments, she made whomever she was with feel good about themselves. She changed so many people’s lives for the better. I was fortunate enough to be one of them.

She introduced me to an incredible chapter in my life. Roberta was the founder of the Los Angeles Police Academy Magnet Schools. An early advocate for strong women, she was upset that many of the girls didn’t have the upper body strength to keep up with some of the physical challenges like the obstacle course.

Knowing my background in bodybuilding and sharing my dedication to weight lifting, she brought me in to help them out. With her encouragement and support, I spent the next ten years training the most wonderful group of kids, both girls and boys. I also had the pleasure of working with several outstanding police officers.

When I was hiking with Stanley this week, two very polite teenage boys stopped to pet him. From their demeanor, it didn’t surprise me when I found out that they were part of the Police Academy Magnet at Reseda High School. As we stood there chatting, I started thinking about the countless other young people and their families whom have benefitted from Roberta’s tireless dedication.

Roberta was also the self-professed crazy dog lady. When she first got sick she found that visits from her neighbor’s dogs cheered her up. She then reasoned that if those pups helped, therapy dogs would be even better. That’s when Charley and Elbee, then Gus and even Stanley began visiting.

After lunch at the dining room table with the dogs at her feet, she would flop on the floor hugging them and laughing. Even as her illness progressed, she seemed to find comfort in their presence. They were a perfect distraction. I will cherish that time we spent together

Former Los Angeles police chief William Bratton said that Roberta was “the guardian angel of the Los Angeles law enforcement community.” I feel like she was my guardian angel too. Despite all of her many commitments, I always felt as if she was looking out for me, as if she truly cared.

I will so miss her presence in my life but I will stand in awe of her legacy. Good bye my friend. Thank you for the unimaginable gifts that you have left behind.

The Good, the Bad and the Oy Vey

It’s hard to believe that 7 months ago I didn’t know Stanley. He was only a mention in an email about his litter being born and he was part of a group photo. Now he has become a huge part of my life in mostly good ways and a few not so good.

Let’s get the oy vey out of the way first. The other morning I took Stanley hiking with my friend Mary. Except for his stealing Mary’s stick and stopping to sniff the ground every ten seconds, it was going relatively well. I was pretty proud of the way he was strutting by my side.

Then we ran into Cooper, a Bernadoodle puppy who was like a walking ad for obedience class. Instead of following his lead, Stanley got so excited that he started jumping around like a kangaroo who’s had too much caffeine

That was nothing compared to his reaction when we met children on the trail. He loves them so the leaping around was accompanied by high pitched barking.

ELBEE His range is impressive.

Apparently he also loves runners because every time someone jogged by, he pulled on the leash and tried to sprint off with them.

On the home front we still have issues like counter surfing and occasional peeing. And would someone tell me why he greets the mailman so nicely but acts like a lunatic when anyone comes in the front door.

Still, going into the new year I’d rather focus on the positive. Stanley, Elbee and Gus have made a lot of progress in their relationships.

ELBEE In the past few weeks he has barely chewed on my ears. Maybe now I can finally get them pierced.

GUS I can’t believe I’m saying this but despite his ridiculous size, I actually enjoy wrestling with him. And doing laps together is keeping me in shape.

Stanley has gotten very attached to me and my husband. It’s sweet except when he insists on pushing his way into the bathroom and gets stuck between the toilet and the wall. He also thinks he’s a lap dog. Now who doesn’t love a lap dog except when he’s three times the size of your lap. Here he is with Nicole, the daughter who likes the dogs.

Hopefully, over time, we can train away the goofy jumping, the high pitched barking and other crazy puppy behavior. There is, however, something Stanley has begun to do on his own that I would never change.

I was walking him the other day when some people stopped to meet him. As one man was petting him, he suddenly smiled and said, “he’s leaning on me.” Then I ran into a young woman who instantly fell in love with Stanley. As she was bending over to pet him, she looked up at me with wonderment on her face and said, “He’s leaning on me.”

The amazing Charley, my first therapy dog, was a leaner. It was like a comforting hug. Although Stanley is very different from Charley in so many ways, it would be beautiful to see him carry on the lean.

Gifts of the Season

This week, as we were leaving the adult day health center, the staff gave me and the Doods the most thoughtful presents. For each of the dogs there was a big Christmas stocking filled with stuffed animals. Since they can tear a toy apart in a matter of minutes, they can never have too many.

ELBEE I’m a dog. That’s what we do.

For me, there was this silver necklace with a delicate paw print and an open heart plus a matching bracelet. It couldn’t have been a more perfect gift. It also made me think about the intangible gifts we had received that morning.

We had such positive interactions with so many of the “regulars” like the physically handicapped young man in the motorized wheelchair. He can barely move but still laughs as Gus and Elbee take treats that I place between his fingers.

An autistic man who had been anxiously awaiting to meet the dogs on our last visit, immediately came over to see them again. He seemed even more comfortable this time but I had no idea how much it really meant to him. One of the staff heard him telling a therapist that he loved them.

Then Gus had a special moment with another participant that I’ve written about before. He suffers from severe depression and only smiles when he sees the dogs. He always asks me to have Elbee “say his prayers” because he feels they’re just for him. After talking to me for a few minutes he sat down on the couch, looking very sad.

Suddenly, Gus, who has never even tried to get on any of the furniture, jumped up next to him. Then he put his little paw on the man’s arm as if to hold it. I know that’s his move to get attention but at the time it really seemed like a loving gesture.

A short time later, another man came walking over as he saw me handing the Doods’ UCLA trading cards to a woman sitting alone at one of the long tables. He took a well-worn wallet out of his pocket to show me that he always carries the cards that I had given to him in the past. What touched me even more was that he had written the date across the top. I gave him those cards in 2016!

In this season of giving, when people are frantic to find that “special” present, I realized that a simple visit from a therapy dog is one of the most precious gifts. For anyone who has had the privilege of holding their own therapy dog on a leash, it is priceless.

Takin’ It to the Streets

ELBEE Apparently Pack Leader thought it would be cute to start with a street photo of us waiting to take a bus. As if! I’d be mobbed by my fans.

Whenever the Doods get groomed, which is very often as you know, I take them for a walk around the area before I drop them off. Recently it struck me how many encounters we have in those few blocks and how many people we’ve come to know. I also realized that if I was walking alone, I probably wouldn’t have spoken to anyone.

For instance, there’s the parking lot attendant who works at a nearby office building. He always pops out of his booth to give us a warm greeting. Then he takes a moment to pet the dogs. Now they won’t walk by until he visits with them.

Then there’s Harvey. He’s an elderly veteran who sets up a small table outside of a shopping center to collect funds for other veterans. In the many times that we’ve chatted, he has never asked for money. He is simply kind and friendly. He’s the grandpa we all wish we had. He loves the dogs, especially his new buddy Stanley.

Perhaps our most unusual encounter was with a woman who has set up a small encampment on the sidewalk by a 7-Eleven strip mall. Unlike many of the homeless who keep to themselves, she always greets me and the dogs.

One late afternoon, I was walking the Doods down a busy street, miles from where I’d always seen her. I was a little concerned because it was getting dark earlier than I had expected. Of course I was in a bright white sweater with two white dogs so we were hard to miss.

Suddenly, I saw a woman crossing the busy street. Wearing dark clothing, pushing a cart, and carrying several bags, she was moving very slowly. I was afraid that cars might not see her. To my surprise, when she reached us, she said, “I know you,” followed by “Puppy Power!” It was the woman from 7-Eleven who recognized me because of the dogs.

To my surprise, okay I was totally judging, she then asked if Elbee was a Great Pyrenees. It made me think about her and Harvey and some of the other “regulars” on our route. We don’t really know each other but our interactions are always positive. Maybe, just like in the hospital, for a brief moment, the Doods make their day. If they can do that for relative strangers, especially in this holiday season, I am grateful for the gifts they give.

Don’t Poodle My Doodle!

You might say that I have a Doodle obsession but even I know they’re fancy mutts and not a recognized breed. From Goldendoodles, to Labradoodles to Schnoodles, they have become increasingly popular. This morning was a perfect example. Elbee and Gus joined some of their colleagues for Christmas caroling at UCLA. Out of around 20 dogs, almost half were Doodles of some sort.

ELBEE Hold the phone. Fancy yes. Mutt, really?

Aside from being a combination, they come in so many sizes, shapes and colors it would be almost impossible to judge a standard of the breed like they do at dog shows. Speaking of dog shows, yes, I’ve been known to watch them occasionally.

ELBEE Occasionally? She’s a fanatic! She and her friend Dennis text so much when there’s a show on television that it’s like they’re doing color commentary.

Okay, dog shows are my guilty pleasure. On Thanksgiving, I was watching the National Dog Show when I saw the most incredible thing I’ve ever seen. It wasn’t a new breed. It was a new breed of judge! Generally they’re a little older.

ELBEE Her peeps.

They also tend to be quite reserved and conservative. Imagine my shock when out walked a judge who looked like the singer Pink. She was wearing a red jumpsuit and had a leopard print tattoo down her exposed arm. She was fabulous.

ELBEE She couldn’t text Dennis fast enough.

But I digress. I was talking to Marsha, groomer to the Doods, about their popularity. She said that people have recently come into the shop asking if she knows how to do a specific “breed cut” for a Doodle. In other words, they don’t want her to Poodle their Doodle.

For the record I don’t have her Poodle my Doodles but it has nothing to do with breed. I love their hair longer and a little shaggy. So do the patients in the hospital, especially the kids.

THE DOODS Just a coincidence that it looks like hers.

It’s no secret, however, that I diva my Doodles. I have more combs, brushes and hair products for them than I do for myself. They are so used to attention in the hospital and on our walks, that they seem to take it personally if someone doesn’t compliment them or, heaven forbid, ignores them.

This week at the adult day health center, their “divadom” reached new heights. The sun was shining when we went in, but it was raining when it was time for us to leave. Not wanting the dogs to get wet, three of the wonderful women on staff became their personal umbrella holders!

ELBEE Dreams do come true!

Stanley, at six months, is well on his way. Of all the places I’ve taken him to socialize, the hair salon seems to be his favorite. He thrives on the attention and the atmosphere of preening and pampering.

Charley posed for this photo as part of a special event at UCLA. Stanley posed for this photo just because he could.

Grace, Gratitude and Chaos

It’s no secret that we don’t have a Norman Rockwell Thanksgiving at our house. With four dogs in the mix, including a large puppy, this year was no different. Yet, with the recent devastation in California, chaos and laughter were a welcome relief, even if most of the laughter was inappropriate and mine.

We were sitting at the dining room table when Samantha, my nine year old granddaughter, asked if each of us would share what we were grateful for. It started out beautifully but then it was my turn. I lost it. I’m not good when put on the spot.

ELBEE I think we can safely assume that grandma of the year is off the table.

Some people cry. A few of my closest friends (you know who you are Elaine and Elliott) and I laugh. It’s a great emotional release.

The next day, as I started writing about the things I was thankful for I was having trouble finding the words. I suddenly realized that with the enormity of recent events, I didn’t want to pay lip service to gratitude. I’d seen all of the news about the mass shootings and the wildfires but was at a comfortable distance.

At the spur of the moment, I put Stanley in the car and drove to some of the affected areas. At first I was selfishly relieved to see that a few of my favorite hiking trails were safe. Then I reached some of the hardest hit places and, whether or not it was my imagination, thought I could sense the lingering smell of smoke.

The Santa Monica mountains were blackened. I passed the remains of houses that had been leveled. I also saw how close the flames had come to homes that had been spared. As I drove on, I was completely overwhelmed by the size of the area that had been affected and by the almost incomprehensible level of destruction. It made me realize how important it is to focus on the positives and to express gratitude.

Thank you to the brave first responders and to the countless heroes who risked their lives to save others. Thank you to all of the people who set aside their differences simply to help each other. Your human kindness inspires me.

Thank you to the friends who introduced me to hiking so many years ago. The mountains are my spiritual place. They’re my refuge. I will never take them for granted. I am still in awe of the hawks and ravens soaring effortlessly on the wind drafts.

Thank you to my big hearted, funny Doods who enable me to have the joy and privilege of being a therapy dog handler. To all of the people in the hospital who’ve smiled and said, “you’ve made my day,” when smiling was the last thing they felt like doing, you’ve made our day.

Above all, thank you to my wonderful, crazy loving family. You are my joy, my strength and fodder for my blog. A special note of appreciation to Samantha for reminding me of the importance of expressing gratitude.

Help! Stanley’s a Teenager

With all of the devastation in California, I truly hope this post will provide a brief time out. Enjoy!

The other night in beginning obedience class, Stanley went rogue. One minute he was behaving so well that I wanted to take a bow and the next he was acting like a total goofball. It was as if the music he was hearing in his head switched from easy listening to heavy metal. He tried to engage with the other dogs. He let out occasional random barks and generally became disruptive.

When I asked Michelle, the trainer, what was going on, I was totally unprepared for her answer. She laughed and said, “Oh, he’s just a teenager.” Those four words struck fear in my heart. I knew I was in trouble. Memories of the daughters as teens came flooding back.

They would sometimes pretend not to know me so that I wouldn’t embarrass them in public. Same for when I had to drop them off a block from the movies so that their friends wouldn’t see me.

ELBEE In their defense, I’ve seen photos. Pack Leader was bodybuilding, had a fake tan and wore bright spandex. Enough said.

They’d steal my clothes (not the spandex), my make up and even the car. There was a random assortment of boyfriends. There were mood swings. There were decisions based on emotion rather than rational thinking. I’m also sure there was drinking. At one point a daughter said, “You should be happy that we tell you everything.” I later learned that meant about ten percent.

There was a time when they were 13, 16 and 19 and one or two of them were threatening to run away. I said absolutely not. If anyone is running away, it’s me. How was I going to handle that all over again and with a dog!

**Stanley and His Buddy** **Ryan, a Good Teenager!**

The good news is that although he has the same mood swings and questionable judgment, there are more positives with a teenage dog. For one thing, he doesn’t steal the car.

ELBEE He doesn’t even like to get in the car. The poor guy has motion sickness issues.

He doesn’t date or sneak out at night. He doesn’t hang out at the mall. He steals my clothes but fortunately not my makeup. And, although I would never encourage it, he has such amazing eyelashes that mascara would look fabulous.

Instead of threatening to run away or pretending not to know me, he likes me. He really likes me. When we go out for a walk he stays proudly by my side.

ELBEE Hello! It’s called a leash.

The vey best part of all is that Stanley’s teens will only last a few months!

Jack and Shane, Hope and Healing

After one of the most devastating weeks in Southern California history, I felt almost frivolous writing a post. Countless people are reeling in the aftermath of the incomprehensible mass shooting. Thousands of others are dealing with the destruction from the massive wild fires. Even though I am miles away from the flames, the air is getting smokier and smokier as I sit here to write.

I decided to share a story of triumph over adversity. I hope that it will provide a note of inspiration in these difficult days.

My dear friend Jack Barron lives and breathes animal therapy. I don’t think he’s ever met a dog that he didn’t like or couldn’t win over. I first met him many years ago when he was teaching a Pet Partners work shop. Then, when I started bringing Charley to UCLA, he became the greatest mentor that anyone could ask for, providing insight, encouragement and support.

Jack now lives up in Oregon with his wife Kathy and two beautiful Labrador Retrievers, Shane and Annie. Shane has been a hard working therapy dog since 2010 and his half sister Annie since 2014.

In September, after a few months of unexplained symptoms, a biopsy revealed that Shane had nasal cancer. Jack didn’t throw in the towel. Instead he began fighting. There’s no one a dog could want in his corner more than Jack.

After several days at Washington State University, Jack and Shane left for the highly recommended Flint Animal Cancer Center at Colorado State University. Following another series of tests, including his 3rd CT scan, it was determined that the only chance for Shane was surgery to remove the tumor and all of his nose. Although Jack said, “It was difficult to look at images of other dogs that had undergone this type of surgery,” he knew that it had to be done.

On October 8th, Shane had what was believed to be a successful surgery. Still, his recovery was a difficult journey, involving further operations and hospital stays. Now he is back home in Bend recuperating in the comfort of family.

What makes this story so positive, aside from Shane recovering, is what Jack plans to do when Shane returns to work. He feels that with his facial deformity, Shane can be an inspiration to people who are dealing with similar problems. Dogs don’t judge themselves or others. For Shane, the loss of his nose is a non-issue. He just wants to love and be loved. That’s a very strong message to share.

From the Pretty Silly to the Profound

This week the Doods and about twenty of their costumed “co-workers” brought Halloween to the kids at UCLA Mattel Children’s Hospital. Dressed as everything from superheroes to ballerinas to cowboys, the dogs cheered up so many young patients and their parents. Even the staff got into the festive mood.

ELBEE I would have made a great Superman so why was I wearing those bouncy things on my head. And Gus was a pumpkin! Really? A pumpkin?

By the way, awhile ago Gus was thinking of renting an apartment with Tommy, his Bichon buddy, to get away from Stanley. Well I’m also thinking of relocating. Tommy’s person Donna dressed like a shepherd and let Tommy and his new sister Finley be her sheep, ergo no silly costumes. I wonder if she has an extra room.

GUS I think I’m going with him. Finley is little and cute and it seems like she kind of likes me. Plus, I don’t know if it’s my imagination but Stanley seems to be getting bigger every day. I’m concerned.

The Halloween excitement was actually a welcome change of pace from some very challenging visits that Gus and Elbee had done only a few days before. At UCLA, a palliative care specialist had tracked us down for an elderly woman who was desperately requesting a dog visit. She was in extreme pain but when Gus put his paws on the side of her bed, it seemed to bring her immediate comfort.

At Providence Tarzana Hospital, a rabbi asked us to stop in to see a young woman who was battling cancer. She was having an emotionally rough morning. Clearing it with the doctor, I brought the dogs in to see her. As Gus cuddled on the bed with her and Elbee stood by her side for petting, she was relaxed and chatting. The woman’s mother was visiting at the time and her relief was almost palpable.

That same morning, one of Tarzana’s palliative care specialists asked if we’d stop in to see the family of a man who was dying. They didn’t think he’d make it through the day. As we got to the door of the room, we were greeted so warmly and appreciatively by a man and a woman whom I believed to be the patient’s son and his wife.

For the next few minutes, we quietly talked as they interacted with the dogs. There was a sense of calm and connection. When it was time for us to leave, we all hugged goodbye. It was such a natural reaction that it was hard to believe only a short time before we had been total strangers.