dogaholics – Page 2 – Me and the Doods.com

It’s a Wacky World

All you have to do is look at the weather and the news to see how wacky the world has become. Some of my friends and I actually take “news breaks” to save our sanity.

I always try to write from a positive place but lately there’s been a lot of crazy going on. For instance, last Sunday, as he often does, my husband Doug stopped at a small local deli to pick up sandwiches. He was inside with several others, when a man outside became very menacing, ranting, raving and threatening people. Three men held the door closed as he tried to break in. The police had to be called to take him away.

Walking in the neighborhood with the Doods, I’ve noticed that lots of houses now have “beware of dog” signs, alarms and cameras. I totally get it, but there’s one that kind of bugs me. As you go by, you hear an unfriendly woman’s voice saying, “Hi, you are currently being recorded.” I never know whether to wave, dance or make an unfriendly gesture.

ELBEE She’s also afraid to go for a walk without hair and makeup in case she’s on camera.

This week, I was passing by a house with the annoying recording, when I noticed a sign on the gate that disturbed me even more. It read, “Forget the dog. Beware of the humans.” I might have thought they were trying to be funny if there wasn’t a drawing of the barrel of a gun pointed right at me.

On a lighter note, I saw a wacky blast from the past. A friend and I were sitting by the window of a coffee shop on busy Ventura Boulevard in Encino when we saw a bright pink Corvette drive by. It was the exact kind of car that Angelyne, a buxom blonde who was famous for being famous, drove in the eighties. She had billboards all over Los Angeles. An Angelyne sighting was an event.

ELBEE I think someone was jealous.

Walking to my car a short time later, I saw the Corvette pulled over to the curb. Curious, I peeked in and couldn’t believe that it was actually Angelyne! I googled her and found out that she is my fellow senior peep. Is it too late for me?

ELBEE Oy!

And while I’m on the subject of pink, I want to end on a positive, possibly wacky note. A house around the corner has a huge statue of a flamingo at the base of the driveway. What are the chances that a therapist we work with at UCLA would recently have given the dogs a flamingo headband for their accessory collection?

I couldn’t wait to take a photo. The only problem was that I don’t know these particular neighbors and I might have been trespassing.

ELBEE I hope they have cameras.

Love Knots

When I was leaving UCLA with Gus on Wednesday, Jen, the director of the People Animal Connection, asked me how the morning went. Without hesitation, I answered “great.”

Considering that we had spent our time in Resnick neuropsych with several groups of patients, some severely disturbed, you might not think that would be the first adjective to jump to mind, but it truly was. The overall mood had lifted as soon as Gus bounced in.

I’m not saying that every interaction was perfect. A few patients sat a little distance away and didn’t initially engage. Still, I’d see them watching and sometimes they’d move closer to our circle on the floor.

Relaxing as they petted Gus, the patients shared stories about their own dogs. There was easy conversation as they rubbed his head. There were lots of smiles and a bit of applause as Gus did a few simple tricks. When I brought out his accessories, the smiles turned to laughter.

When it was time to leave each unit there were gentle good-bye hugs for Gus. More than one patient tried to convince me to leave him there. They promised to take care of him if I’d let him stay.

ELBEE No one asked her to stay.

A big part of successful visits is that the dogs love attention and know how to get it. It’s no secret that I’ve turned them all into total divas.

It begins at the groomer. They have to be bathed more frequently to go into the hospital and have come to regard the groomer as their home away from home. They run in the front door as if it’s a day spa.

Jen, the groomer to my pack of divas, has an assistant who adds that extra special note of affection they crave. It’s her adorable four year old daughter Anne. She has been around the Doods for as long as I can remember and has always been comfortable with them. Now she helps take care of them and keeps them company when they’re waiting to be picked up.

On the actual subject of grooming, last time I was there I asked Jen why Gus and Stanley seemed to have excessive matting, particularly on their necks and behind their ears even though I brush them constantly.

Her answer surprised me and touched my heart. Without hesitation she told me that it was from so many people in the hospital rubbing their heads, cuddling and hugging them. Then she smiled and said, “We call them love knots.”

A Break in the Clouds

This week I was planning to write a sweet, positive post but then everything went sideways again.

ELBEE Apparently she didn’t get the memo about a historic storm on the way.

It started raining Thursday night. The dogs had been walked and we were all snug at home so it was pretty cozy. It kept raining on Friday. Then the wind picked up and it looked like a hurricane. Tree branches were coming down everywhere.

Friday night at around 11:00 the power went out not to return again until Saturday at midnight. Oh, and in the midst of it all, I came down with a cold, first one in years. Good news is that it wasn’t Covid.

ELBEE She should have called this post “Whining.”

The dogs were the best therapy. They followed us from room to room. They curled up at our feet. At one point Stanley lay down next to me on the bed and gently rested his head on my chest.

There were only two problems with the dogs. The first was that they got soaked every time we took them out. We went through so many towels and had no way to dry them. My friend Mary, realizing the towel issue, even offered to drop off some extras.

The second issue was that, being part Poodle, the Doods barely shed but they do get knots in their hair if you don’t brush them out. I was their personal hair and makeup person.

ELBEE There was no makeup involved although it wouldn’t have hurt.

During breaks in the rain it was so clean and beautiful outside, it seemed the perfect time to take photos of the dogs.

ELBEE Told you she should have done makeup.

It’s also been very cold while all of this weather has been happening. I’ve been taking out warm clothes that I rarely get to wear. The only problem is that I still have the cast and bandage on my broken finger so it’s hard to fit into a lot of sleeves.

ELBEE Oy!

On the bright side, it led me to the back of my closet to find a very warm, very fabulous coat with wide sleeves. It was from my eighties glory days.

ELBEE There is a fine line between fabulous and frightening.

A Time for Love

With Valentines Day this past week, it was the perfect time for the Doods to be sharing their dog love. For me, there was also a note of nostalgia as I found old holiday photos of Charley and Elbee with “baby’ Gus.

ELBEE I looked strangely fabulous and ridiculous.

On Tuesday, Gus joined the canine cupids at UCLA. Several dogs, plus Blue Moon, a miniature horse, brought the holiday to the hospital. Dressed in festive attire, they delivered homemade cards, gifts and candy to patients and staff.

ELBEE Guess who helped herself to some of the candy.

The morning began with lots of chaos. Dogs and people were excitedly greeting each other outside of the hospital. There was a kissing booth. There were photographers.

ELBEE I don’t know how they ever got that photo.

The real magic of the morning began when we went up to pediatrics. Some of the dogs quietly visited with grateful staff. Others went into the rooms to cheer up young patients and their families. Everyone loved the festive cards and the gifts, but the dogs were the true valentines.

The next day Stanley did his regular visits at Resnick neuropsych. I’m always amazed at how quickly the mood lifts when the dogs walk in. What struck me on Wednesday was how much more the patients were interacting with each other while they were interacting with Stanley. In one of †he adult units, it led to a very positive group discussion.

ELBEE Don’t worry. The therapists keep an eye on her.

On Friday, Gus did double duty. He started the day at Tarzana Hospital. For the first time in weeks there were several pediatric patients who were not in isolation, so, to everyone’s delight, he was able to do bed visits.

Tired as he was when we left, Gus had one more job to before he could go home and rest. I was going to the wound care center to have my husband rewrap my broken finger and I needed a therapy dog.

It was a win/win. First, Gus kept an eye on my husband while he was working on my hand. Then he got lots of attention and love from the wonderful staff. I have found there is something about having a sweet dog with you that makes everyday seem like Valentines Day.

Hearts & Breaks

ELBEE I came up with that brilliant title. You’ll see.

This week, with Valentine’s Day coming up, and the dogs sharing so much love, I thought I knew what I was going to write about. I was further inspired by positive messages in the universe. I heard someone say that “harmony is different notes coming together to make things more beautiful.” I read an article that said “life satisfaction is dependent on warm connections with other people.”

ELBEE She thought her post would be a no-brainer.

Then everything went sideways. I was on a morning walk with Stanley and Henry enjoying the perfect weather. We greeted lots of people and even a few dogs. Then from a distance I saw a woman heading towards us with a tiny dog.

Generally, someone with a dog that size will pick it up if they think it may have an issue with two dogs, even friendly ones, who look like Yetis. The dog seemed okay until she got closer. Then out came a loud, high-pitched bark that only tiny dogs seem to be able to do.

ELBEE She was a soprano but not a good one. She will not be on AGT.

Stanley and Henry, assuming she wanted to play, began jumping around like goofballs. It was like two kids seeing who could get more attention.

STANLEY & HENRY Excuse us for being social.

Even the woman’s husband, who came up a minute later, said he could see how much they wanted to play. Still, I decided it was better to grab them and move on. That’s when it happened, I’m not sure how, but suddenly the back of my left ring finger felt weird. For the record I didn’t fall.

ELBEE Hey, old people fall.

As I was heading back to the car, with the dogs walking perfectly by my side, as if they knew, my finger swelled up and turned purple. To make a long story short, it’s broken, and apparently not the good kind of break.

ELBEE There’s a good kind of break?

On the bright side, I’m right handed (although I never realized how much I do with my left hand, like type), and it will heal with time. I also have three therapy dogs on call.

A Toast to Henry!

For some time now, friends who have met Henry and fallen for his charms, have been urging me to test him. Passing the Pet Partners certification would make him an official therapy dog. With a little extra training he could join his brothers working at the hospital.

ELBEE About time he got a job.

I’m not sure why I’ve been so hesitant. Maybe it’s because my journey with the dogs has been such a life-changing gift. I really want Henry to be ready when he walks into the hospital by my side.

It’s hard to believe that it began in 2006 with Charley, my first gentle giant. Thinking back over the years, there are countless memories that I am privileged to have even though some are difficult.

Charley was the source of comfort for a young schizophrenic girl whom he visited regularly in the neuropsych units at UCLA. After one extremely difficult encounter, when she had actually tried to kick him, she wrapped her arms around him and said “I’m sorry Charley. I love you.” Elbee reached another very disturbed young girl. When we arrived she was out of control, yelling and banging her head on the wall. Through the miracle of Elbee therapy she went from crying to kneeling on the floor teaching him how to do a trick.

Recently Stanley amazed me in the teen unit. As we were walking in, a few of the staff warned us that the group was very depressed. Looking in through the window, I could see what they meant. Within minutes, Stanley was sprawled in their laps on the floor getting belly rubs. Every single one was smiling.

Last week, as we were leaving, a staff member shared a very special story about Gus. A young woman who loved Gus was carrying his trading card with her everywhere. She didn’t want to let go of it for a minute. When they put Gus’s picture in a little frame for her, they had to make a copy so that she could keep his card close.

Now back to Henry.

ELBEE It’s about time.

Last week, I decided to go for it. I should mention that even though I have done the test more than a dozen times (the dogs have to recertify every two years) I still get nervous.

ELBEE She should also mention that we get scored separately and I’m sure I beat her.

Henry seemed at ease as we went through the process. He enjoyed the attention and he really liked the two volunteers who were assisting. I was so happy we’d done it. His story was about to begin.

There was one glitch on our way out. Joe Bruin, the huge UCLA mascot, was greeting everyone in the lobby. Henry, who had never seen anything close to that, would not even get near enough for a photo. Hopefully we won’t be running into him on our rounds.

Another Gentle Giant?

This week I took Henry down to the wound care center where my husband Doug works. The staff was so helpful in training Stanley for the hospital and now they’re doing the same for Henry. It’s a great way for the dogs to get used to a medical setting.

Henry loves everyone there and they love him. It’s been several months since his last visit so they were very surprised to see how much he’d grown. To my delight they could also see a real improvement in his socialization. In the past he’d been a bit shy, but on Friday he was calm and sweet with everyone.

Sometimes I forget how little he used to be. Doug and I were looking at some of his baby pictures and found it hard to believe that tiny puppy was the same dog.

Recently, a friend remarked that Henry is almost as tall as I am. As you can see, she was correct. Apparently as he’s been getting taller, I’ve been getting shorter. It’s an age thing.

ELBEE Hey, she said it. I didn’t.

I’ve even started on a monthly medication to help these old bones. For the sake of convenience, I’ve decided to take it on the same day that I do flea and heartworm prevention for the dogs. It’s a win/win.

ELBEE That is way too much information.

Continuing with Henry’s socialization, I took him hiking with my friend Mary. She has always been incredibly supportive of my work with the dogs and loves when people stop to visit. She brags about them almost as much as I do.

It was a beautiful morning with lots of people enjoying the cool weather. Henry wanted to meet everyone. The moment he spotted another hiker, he’d stop and stare in their direction. I’d ask if it was okay for him say hello and all I heard was “of course.”

His interactions were very gentle and sweet. He even did a bit of the “lean,” like Charley, my very first gift of a therapy dog, used to do. Charley taught me so much about healing and unconditional love.

Toward the end of our walk, we were chatting with a woman while she was petting Henry. As he sat quietly by her side, looking up at her with his soulful eyes, she said softly, “He’s a gentle giant.” That was music to my ears because that’s how people used to refer to Charley.

Less Conversation, More Communication

I have often expressed gratitude for the privilege of working with the Doods, but just hanging out with them is also a positive. There is something very comforting about having dogs by your side. They’re great company. They relieve stress. They never disagree. They don’t have strong political opinions.

Walking with them this week, it suddenly struck me that, although we don’t have actual conversations, we are always communicating.

ELBEE She talks to them constantly.

They let me know exactly what they need. When they refuse to move, it’s water. If they slow down and stare at me, they’re usually hoping for a treat. If Stanley gets something stuck in his paw, he throws himself down on the sidewalk.

ELBEE He’s such a drama king.

And if I need real conversation, there is always someone stopping to visit. The other day, a woman pulled her car over and rolled down the window just to ask if Stanley and Henry were Great Pyrenees. A man inquired which one I wanted to sell. I’m not sure if he was kidding.

On a cool, cloudy morning this week, I was with Stanley and Henry heading up a street that leads into the mountains. A middle aged couple saw the dogs, broke into huge smiles and made a beeline for us. It was love at first sight. The man was completely taken with Henry while she fell for Stanley. They were making offers but we settled for simply taking photos.

Awhile later, I had a moving encounter with a woman coming down from the trails. While we casually chatted, she kept petting and hugging the dogs. When I told her about their work in the hospital, particularly at Resnick, she really opened up.

She has two severely autistic young sons and was curious as to how the kids reacted to Gus and Stanley since she had considered getting therapy dogs for her boys. When I told her about some recent breakthroughs they’d had, especially with autistic patients, she was so appreciative and said it gave her the incentive to really pursue the idea.

At home, my husband Doug and I have very deep non-conversations with the dogs. They will follow us from room to room and seem most content when we’re all hanging out together. They sense when one of us needs a little extra TLC and, without saying a word, will offer love and understanding.

Gus Brings the Love

There is always a sense of joy and privilege, responsibility too, when you take a therapy dog to work. Every time is special but there are some days that just stand out.

On Wednesday, when I visited UCLA with Gus, he was at the top of his game. He was having a great hair day, at his fluffiest best. His tail never stopped wagging as we greeted countless people on our way to the elevator.

When we reached our regular Resnick neuropsych units, there was the usual air of excitement. Everyone, staff and patients alike, were as happy to see Gus as he was to see them. It almost looked as if he was smiling. But as the morning went on, Gus had some interactions that epitomized the profound emotional power of therapy dogs.

A very talkative teenage girl was telling us about her animals at home. She was incredibly engaged with Gus, brushing him, hugging him, giving him belly rubs. Still, I could tell she had severe problems. I noticed several cuts on her arms and she kept repeating that she didn’t ever want to forget anything about Gus. When we were leaving she said very quietly, “This is the first thing that’s made me want to live in a long time.”

In another group, I was sharing some of the dogs’ accessories. I put on Gus’s birthday headband and asked if anyone was celebrating. No one said they were but a few minutes later, one of the boys whispered to me that it was his birthday. He very seriously told me that he didn’t want anyone to know because he didn’t celebrate birthdays. I asked if he was okay with Gus and the headband. With the trace of a smile, he said “Yes, that was okay.”

When we went into one of the day rooms, a young man, whom I believe is severely autistic and generally non-verbal, was on a sofa with his one-on-one aid, keeping his distance from everyone. At first he didn’t want Gus to come any closer but after a few minutes the aid indicated that the patient had changed his mind. I walked over and gently lifted Gus up in front of him. He smiled as he awkwardly petted him. Then I heard him say two words,”soft” and “remember.” He was the same young man, who, a few months earlier, with encouragement from other patients, had petted Stanley.

Driving home later, I was thinking about the magic I had just witnessed and somehow it brought to mind my late brother Stan who was an amateur magician. His business card said “How’d Ya Do That?” As I glanced at Gus, asleep on the seat, that’s exactly what I wondered.

A Whole Lotta Halloween

My husband has always been a big fan of Halloween. He uses his surgical skills to carve pumpkins. He used to decorate the house for elaborate holiday parties and even dressed up to take the kids trick or treating. Me, not so much.

ELBEE I believe she’s what you’d call a Halloween Scrooge.

I don’t mind cute decorations like smiling pumpkins or happy scarecrows. I just don’t understand the creepy clowns and the gravestones that say, “Let Me Out.” And what’s with all of the skulls and skeletons?

I mean, take this house for example. Skeletons and spiders?

ELBEE Hello! That’s her daughter’s house in San Jose.

Even aside from Halloween, I don’t like being scared. One time at an amusement park my daughters talked me into joining them on a roller coaster. Right before it was going to take off, I panicked and tried to convince the guy in charge to let me off. I’ll never forget when he looked at me and said, “Lady relax. It’s just two minutes.” Those were two of the longest minutes of my life.

This year, thanks to the dogs, I caught the Halloween spirit. There were even costumes involved.

ELBEE A t-shirt with a pumpkin on it and a crazy wig is a costume?

On our regular days at Tarzana Hospital and UCLA, I brought accessories like pumpkin headbands and Halloween glasses. I did a silly photo shoot with the Doods. I was on a Halloween roll.

But the best part was Friday. Several of the costumed PAC dogs, including Gus and Stanley, as pumpkins, and four “lion” labs, went to cheer up the kids in the pediatric unit at UCLA.

There was constant excitement everywhere we went but one interaction really stood out. The Halloween pack went in to see a six year old girl who is battling cancer. Despite her illness and her bald head, she was a little dynamo in Halloween pajamas. She was the picture of sheer happiness as they came into her room.

Hearing her adorable giggle as she petted and hugged each of the dogs was a gift I will never forget. So was seeing her young dad wipe a tear from his eye.

Before leaving, we stopped in the administration office to share the dogs. Gus and Stanley love everyone in there but were so tired from all of their visits that they sprawled on the floor to relax. It seemed like such a good idea that, laughing, we joined them. That’s when Jen, the director of PAC, walked in, took a look at all of us and said, “Guess that’s a Halloween wrap.”

Happy Halloween from a former Halloween Scrooge!