Ellen Morrow – Page 41 – Me and the Doods.com

Take a Hike

In high school I was voted least likely to ever go hiking. At first I was a little offended because I thought it might have to do with my glasses, braces and orthopedic shoes, but as I gave it some thought I was really quite flattered. Although I’d never met a female hiker (I don’t think we had any in Syracuse) I had a vision in mind. They were overgrown Girl Scouts who wore ugly shoes, uglier shorts, carried backpacks and had some sort of Swiss army knives hanging from their belts.

Several years later, with this picture in mind, when a couple of acquaintances at the gym asked me if I’d like to go hiking, I blurted out, “you must be joking!” Then I realized they were both wearing make up and cute outfits and shaved their legs, so I thought why not?

To make a long story short, after one hike, I was hooked. I was a born again nature lover. To this day, there is nothing that has helped me more physically, mentally or spiritually than going into the mountains. It’s like church or temple without the guilt and sermons. Plus you build up your legs and your stamina and can bring your dogs.

When I first started hiking, I went with friends but as the years went by I wanted to take off without waiting for someone else. That’s when I got the brilliant idea to take the dogs. They followed me around like stalkers so why not put the attachment to good use. I didn’t know how much help they’d be in an emergency or if they’d even recognize an emergency, but they gave me a sense of security.

CHARLEY I’m a little offended. Of course I’d recognize an emergency. What Pack Leader neglected to share is that the first time she saw a snake she ran screaming down the trail, and you know she’s not a runner.

GUS There are snakes in the mountains? I’m terrified of snakes. No one ever tells me anything.

You may be shocked to hear that my daughters, remember them, the ones who are suing me and who, somewhere along the line, had become my mothers, were not thrilled with this arrangement. The way they put it was, “You’re that crazy person wandering around the mountains with her dogs.” And I thought I was a cute Grizzly Adams.

ELBEE I have one thing to say. If PL takes one more picture of me with flowers in my hair, I will refuse to ever go hiking again. She’s ruining my street cred.

Running With Your Dogs Is Still Running

I’m not going to write about my daughters today. No point in giving them more ammunition while they’re deciding whether or not to sue me. It kills me because they’re such great material. My husband thinks it’s wonderful how they’re bonding over this. Really?

Recently I was watching the dogs running in the park and thought, “wouldn’t it be fun to run with them.” I could bond with the Doods, get some exercise.

The Doods and buddy Rango having fun — The Doods and buddy Rango

I was so excited that I bought the shoes and a cute running outfit that wouldn’t show my butt bouncing up and down. I put the Doods on leashes and took off. After about a hundred yards of misery, I realized I’d forgotten one important thing. I hate running.

One other time, when my daughters were young, I’d been inspired to run. That turned out to be a total fiasco. Notice I’m not giving details. All I’m saying is that I got bailed out by the rainy season.

I had a sneaking suspicion that the Doods hated it too. Well to be honest, running with me seemed to be the problem. On their own they loved it.

CHARLEY This is the voice of reason speaking. I hate to say it but she also forgot that she’s no spring chicken and neither am I. Not to brag, but in my younger days I was quite the runner. A woman, who was obviously jealous that I was faster than her Border Collie, referred to me as a “flying carpet.” I let her sarcasm fall right off of my fabulous coat.

Aside from the pain, there are a few other reasons I have now officially sworn off running. First, I think it causes wrinkles. I can get enough of those walking and aging. My theory is that as you get older, your skin gets tired and has all it can do just to hold you together.

I also have a theory that jogging will cause your uterus to fall out. This isn’t necessarily a bad thing, especially if it’s time for it to go. But can you imagine having to pick up dog poop and your uterus.

ANONYMOUS This is anonymous again. That is way too much information. I hope that none of my friends recognize me when I’m out with her.

The Doods Weigh in on the Daughters

20160404_140354_resized — **I look more serious in** **my glasses**

CHARLEY I just had to vent. Some of you know that I do yoga and meditate, but the daughters are ruining my zen outlook. I was eavesdropping again when I heard that Nicole and Danielle wanted to sue Pack Leader for libel or slander but weren’t even sure which one. That gave me a chuckle.

According to what they shared on Facebook, they don’t like being used as “fodder for her blog.” Personally, I love when she writes about me. I’m sorry but I still think it’s a jealousy issue with her kids.

And guess whom they wanted to retain as legal counsel…their sister Jennifer the lawyer! She hates FB and doesn’t even read the posts but said she felt “emotionally distressed,” and told them to start documenting their symptoms. OMG!

ANONYMOUS Charley is wearing his glasses to look smart. I’m wearing sunglasses to remain anonymous. I don’t want those daughters trying to sue me. I can’t afford legal counsel.

Guess who jumped on the bandwagon next…Nicole’s fiancé Christian. He posted this checklist. Instead of getting upset, P.L. thought it was awesome that she had her own category. Nicole was ready to throw in the towel.

GUS I was adopted into this family. I’m still confused. What’s Facebook? What’s a blog? What’s wrong with these people?

The Daughters and the Doods

I wasn’t going to write about my daughters today. Oh who am I kidding. Of course I was. Some things are just too easy. When I told them that “meandthedoodsandthedaughters” had a nice ring to it, they said that so did a want ad for a new mother. Totally not fair since she wouldn’t have to deal with diapers, teenage rebellion or the cost of college. Plus she would get grandchildren as a bonus. Grandchildren who, by the way, love the dogs.

My daughters have also accused me of replacing each one of them with a dog. Although that was never my intention, it has worked out exceptionally well. It certainly made the whole empty nest syndrome a lot easier than I expected. This from a woman who cried like a baby when I dropped them off at nursery school.

One morning Nicole was over and suddenly asked, “if one of the dogs was drowning and I was drowning, who would you save?” My first response was, “Can I have a few minutes to think about it?” When that didn’t cut it, I asked if I could save them both. Not surprisingly that didn’t go over very well either. Then I said, “Of course I would save you.”

CHARLEY I happened to be eavesdropping when that whole conversation was taking place. I admit that I was quite upset when I heard that answer but then she turned to me and winked.

The Daughters Weigh In

The Doods We’d like to say kudos, bravo and woof to our self appointed pack leader on her last post. In our humble opinion (well, Charley is humble) it was insightful and accurate. We’ve talked among ourselves and think her daughters may be a little jealous of us.

Now that the Doods have weighed in, here’s the good news and the bad news. All three of my daughters read my last post about dogs being better than children. Here’s the really bad news. Mother of the year is definitely off the table. Danielle (yes, I’m naming names) fell back on the old saying, “if you can’t say anything nice.” I’m going to cut her some slack because she has a two year old and a four month old. I’m sure if she wasn’t sleep deprived she’d have had some wonderful things to say.

On facebook she asked (or begged) for her sister Nicole to chime in. Nicole suggested they write their own blog called, “Our crazy blonde mom who looks like her dogs.” They shot that one down because they were afraid I’d like it. They were correct.

20151213_210137-2_resized — Me, Nicole and the Doods

Since Nicole is the one who actually likes the dogs, I asked if she’d mind sharing the post, meaning with friends. Instead she shared it with Jennifer, the oldest, and the one who pretends that she hates the dogs. Jennifer’s response was, “Lets see the dogs take care of her in her old age.” She did have a point.

Jennifer really surprised me one day when she told me that her friends had been looking at the blog and cracking up. I was so flattered, assuming they’d been reading it. She said, “no mom, they couldn’t understand about the movie with Charley and the whole thing about you and the dogs looking alike, so I just showed them the pictures. They were laughing so hard they were crying.”

GUS Yes, I’m in a shopping cart. Don’t ask. Elbee told me that to be funny, Danielle sent her a video of a man dancing with his dog and asked if any of us could do that. Now she wants to take lessons with me. Oh no!

Top 12 Reasons Dogs Are Better than Children

First I’d like to apologize to my three wonderful daughters in the hopes that this post won’t put me out of the running for mother of the year.

Here are my top twelve (trust me there are more) reasons that dogs are better than children:

When you’re housebreaking/potty training a dog you can reprimand it for having an accident without his shrink hearing about it years later.
Dogs go through the “terrible two’s” in the first few months of life and generally don’t throw tantrums in the middle of department stores. (You know which daughter you are).
You can leave a dog at home alone in a crate without someone calling child protective services.
Same goes for leaving them in the car as long as it’s not hot out and the windows are open.
You can walk a dog on a leash without someone questioning your parenting skills.
You can educate your dog in a class at the park instead of at Harvard.
They eat out of one dish.
They don’t date.
They don’t drive and crash your car.
They don’t judge.
They love you unconditionally and don’t question your wardrobe choices.
They don’t borrow your clothes.

GUS My big brothers said that she finally got it right and told me to give her a high five for all of us. I feel pretty special even though I’m still a little confused.

OMG I Have O.D.D.

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Recently a friend, oh who am I kidding about 10 friends and a few strangers, e-mailed, face booked and instagrammed me about O.D.D., obsessive dog disorder. Am I really that obvious?

As you can see from the illustration, it said to share. So why not over share with all of my fabulous fellow dog lovers

I’ve always suspected that I have undiagnosed A.D.D. or as they called it when I was a kid, “can’t you ever sit still and pay attention?” It got so bad in high school after my father died that someone (I’m not naming names) nicknamed me Flea! But O.D.D. was something new. The dogaholism that I confessed to in my first post was a real thing.

While I was reading the symptoms all I could think was, “if the shoe that the dog hasn’t chewed fits, then wear it.” I couldn’t even be offended. I was kind of the role model for O.D.D. I was also kind of proud.

Let’s consider. I definitely have more than one dog and run in to greet them before anyone else. (Apologies to my grandkids). I would step over the dogs before I would make them get up and be uncomfortable. As for dog toys, I tripped over two of them and a dog when I was getting up to go to the bathroom the other night.

ELBEE She tripped over me the other night and I’m hard to miss. It wasn’t the first time either. I probably shouldn’t have laughed but she didn’t get hurt. All I could think of was that expression I’ve heard the kids use, “Have a nice trip. See you in the fall.”

I’ve also admitted that an ulterior motive in having therapy dogs is that it gives me an excuse to spend way more time with them and actually get credit for it.

As for the way they eat, I won’t even discuss the number of places we go for their food, vitamins and supplements. I do feel guilty that I don’t cook for them. I have a few friends that do, but they’re way more Martha Stewart than I could ever hope to be. I’m a little envious.

What they didn’t mention on the list is that we spend more time and money on grooming and pampering our dogs than we do on ourselves. I have huge baskets filled with their combs, brushes and sprays. Mine fit in one cupboard. They go to the “salon” way more often than I do too. Maybe I need to rethink this.

We O.D.D. people also find conversations about our dogs to be endlessly fascinating. If we run into each other out walking our packs, it’s over. We spend so much time talking about our dogs and sharing cute photos, we should just meet at Starbucks instead of pretending that we’re exercising.

For the record, I would like to close by saying that I’m out and proud with my O.D.D.

CHARLEY Excuse me, why are people making fun of O.D.D.? I think it’s very noble and appropriate behavior. I myself suffer from a bit of O.P.D. (Obsessive People Disorder). I just don’t like to be alone and I have a question. Why is it okay for PL (as we refer to our fearless, self-appointed pack leader) to be obsessed with us but when I follow her around I’m considered a stalker. I think I’m going to tweet about it.

I Was Framed

RILEY Allow me to introduce myself. My name is Riley. I’m a senior citizen and a well respected Golden Retriever who lives with the Doods. I’m also Charley’s uncle. I’m very fond of them, but it’s not always easy, especially with that young one Gus, who thinks he’s my personal trainer. He makes me run around and play with him which helps me stay young, but he is a mischief maker.

Take a look at this picture of me surrounded by shredded toilet paper.

Now I ask you, does that look like something a dog of my age and sophistication would do? I was framed and I think we all know who was responsible. It was a certain goofy, almost two year old Doodle who thinks he’s funny. Gus may have passed his therapy dog test and act like a little angel but chewing up paper is his department. Personally, I think it’s a ridiculous habit. I didn’t even do it when I was a puppy.

What really gets me, is the way he set it up. He knows that being almost thirteen, I tend to do a lot of napping. He waited until I was asleep, got a roll of toilet paper from the bathroom and chewed it up all around me until it looked like confetti. Then, when Ellen, our self-appointed pack leader came home, she found me in this unfortunate situation and ran for the camera. How embarrassing is that! Gus, of course, was in the other room watching television.

In case you need more proof, take a look at this photo.

Do you see all of those orange feathers? They were supposed to be part of Charley’s Halloween costume but Gus tore it to shreds. At least he didn’t get a chance to pin it on anyone else. I admit that in the case of the feathers, I was on his side. No self-respecting canine like my nephew Charley should be decked out like a day-glo chicken.

Can You Give Your Dog Test Anxiety?

Testing for Pet Partners with Gus was stressful but it was nothing compared to my very first ever testing. I’d never studied or taken a test with a dog, not even one as smart as Charley.

It wasn’t that the test was going to be tricky or full of surprises. Everything had been explained and illustrated in the workshop and in the huge book we were given (and which I read more than once and highlighted). It was just so different from anything I’d ever done. I certainly didn’t want to let Charley down, or worse, explain to my laughing children why I’d failed. Then, just as I was getting it together, someone told me that if you’re nervous, your emotions travel down the leash to your dog. Great! I had to worry about upsetting him with my issues.

In the weeks before the test, I drove the family nuts with my concerns, questions, and need for support. When I made the mistake of telling the kids that the evaluation would begin as soon as I left the car, they had a field day with that information. They convinced me that people with walkie-talkies (cell phones weren’t big yet) would be hiding behind trees and reporting on my behavior. If Charley or I did anything wrong, our mug shots would be sent to testing central.

After all of their kidding and practically doing skits at my expense, I was totally surprised when we arrived at the testing site on the UCLA campus. A friendly girl named Heather, who was in plain site, walked up and greeted us. When I asked about spies, she assured me there were none, and looked at me as if I was insane.

When the evaluation began, my genius dog sat down at my side and gazed up at me. The examiner said, “That’s perfect. Just what we want to see, a connection between handler and dog.”

CHARLEY Pardon the interruption but obviously he didn’t realize that I was looking at her as if to say, “Get a grip!” Yes, nerves do travel down the leash. I am normally very calm but she was ruining my chi. And for the record, she really did make me stay up all night and listen to that book.

As I explained with Gus, the testing is part obedience and part aptitude. Charley breezed through the basic obedience. He walked calmly by my side on a loose leash with all sorts of distractions around us. Nothing phased him. There were people going by in wheel chairs and walkers. Others were yelling and staggering before they came over and asked if they could pet him. I, on the other hand, jumped about a foot off the floor when someone dropped a book behind us. When it was time to have the evaluator brush him, someone else hug him and a few people pet him at the same time, he acted as if he was at the spa.

We only had one little snag. There is an exercise on the evaluation called “neutral dog.” Two handlers approach each other from several feet away, shake hands, say, “what’s up?” and continue walking past each other. Charley wasn’t supposed to show more than casual interest in the other dog.

As luck would have it, the neutral dog was a cute Golden Retriever and Charley has a thing for cute Golden Retrievers. He did everything short of ask her for a date. If I had to guess, I’d say he got her phone number. Fortunately we were only scored down a point.

I was overjoyed when we passed the test. It was partly because Charley was my very first, official therapy dog but even more so it was because we were considered a team. As a non-athletic kid who’d never done sports, this was my very first team and I was kind of like captain!

CHARLEY Captain? Are you kidding me? Her nerves were so bad at testing, I was ready to have a bowl of wine, and I rarely drink. And I think we all know who’s captain. By the way, I did get the cute Golden Retriever’s phone number.

The New Therapy Dog on the Blog

My newest teammate — **My newest UCLA teammate**

In the spirit of the new year, I have yet another confession. I like to write until I make myself laugh. I guess that makes me the arbiter of my own humor which is probably not a good thing. And while I’m over sharing, I admit that I prefer it when the Doods take over the blog. I told the daughters that I felt as if I were channeling them. If you recall, when these same daughters were children, I told them that our dogs talked to me. Good thing a friend told my grandchildren that I was not crazy, just unconventional. Maybe that should be my epitaph. “She was unconventional.”

Back to the main topic of the day…Gus, my newly minted therapy dog and the second youngest dog volunteering at UCLA. Oops I’m bragging again. Coincidentally, Gus passed his Pet Partners evaluation with a perfect score on the same morning that my grandson was born. I am well aware that I should not put these two events in the same sentence, probably not even in the same post, but I got the call as I was stuck in L.A. traffic on the way to testing.

Since I have never completely overcome my childhood as a nerdy, over achiever, any kind of testing is stressful for me. When I had to renew my drivers license, I read the book six times and took notes. Even though Charley and Elbee have tested every two years and I knew exactly what to expect, I was still nervous going in with Gus.

CHARLEY He was lucky she didn’t make him pull an all-nighter like the first time with me.

The evaluation is part obedience and part aptitude, mine and the dogs! To make matters worse, the handler (that would be me) and the dog are scored separately. Theoretically, Gus could outscore me or even worse, pass the test when I failed. These are both secrets I would carry to my grave and would definitely not share with my daughters. In my next post, I will tell you what a field day they had the very first time I was getting ready to test Charley.

Let me just say that Gus breezed through the evaluation. He was 25 pounds of sweetness and confidence and made me look good. It’s amazing how well it reflects on you if your dog is well behaved, kind of like with your children. That reminds me. When one of my daughters was a teenager, she offered me a deal. She could behave at home and make my life peaceful or behave out in the world so that other people would think I was doing a good job of parenting, but there was no way she could do both. I’m not naming names but it was the lawyer.

Thank goodness that's over — **Thank goodness that’s over**

GUS Do you see that picture? That’s exactly how I felt after the Pet Partner’s evaluation. The test was no problem but calming you-know-who down was exhausting. My big brothers warned me. I should have listened. Thank goodness I don’t have to do it again for two years!