dogaholics – Page 4 – Me and the Doods.com

Spa Day

As has happened way too often over the past few years, when the news is as disturbing at it is now, I hesitate to write something that will seem frivolous. But, thanks to friends who have told me it’s just the time out they need, here I go again.

The good news is that Gus and Stanley went back to work this week. First order of business was getting them bathed. As therapy dogs, who are groomed for work, and also as total divas, they get their hair done more often than I do. The groomer is like their home away from home.

ELBEE I always thought of it as my spa, a place to relax and get pampered.

STANLEY Maybe I shouldn’t say this but Elbee used to bark so much he’d ruin my Zen.

ELBEE I was chanting.

Occasionally someone will ask, “Why don’t you bathe them yourself?” Well, I do for the first few months and then, when I can barely get them into the tub, it’s on to the professionals. Gus would still fit but do you know how long it would take me to dry his hair!

ELBEE Trust me. It would be a disaster.

I’ve been taking the Doods to Shani’s and Four Your Paws Only for so long, it feels like family. When the dogs are still puppies, I bring them over to socialize.

Actually it is a family affair. When Marsha was grooming them, her son Ryan would help get them ready for special events. He painted Gus purple and gold for a visit with the Laker girls.

Jen is now groomer to the Doods, along with an assist from her mom and her husband. She also has a special helper who is a favorite of the Doods, her darling little girl, Anne Marie.

Anne has been around the dogs for as long as I can remember. Even before she was old enough to help out, she had a special relationship with Stanley. He’d look for her as soon as we walked into the shop and she’d give him a great big smile.

At three, she and Gus have become quite the pair. With a little supervision, she takes his leash and walks him into the shop. Then she makes sure he’s okay in the tub.

GUS I think of her as my personal stylist.

Henry has been joining his brothers lately. He doesn’t go as often as they do but when I drop off the three, it’s a lot of dog. I think Henry feels a bit left out when he’s waiting his turn, so Anne Marie has stepped up to give him some love too.

Henry Has Arrived at Big Boy Status

Henry is not a small puppy but I don’t really think about his size until something calls it to my attention. In this recent photo with my friend Carol, honorary aunt to all the Doods, he looks huge!

ELBEE Hello! He’s closer to the camera, of course he looks huge. It’s called perspective.

With the long Great Pyrenees legs he inherited from his mother, he’s like the tall awkward kid who will be a star basketball player once he fills out.

ELBEE Thank goodness that unfortunate puppy acne has cleared up.

Lately when we’re walking, I hear lots of comments about his size. Two people suggested I put a saddle on him. I was chatting with a Spanish speaking man, who smiled and said “es un caballo,” which means “he’s a horse.”

ELBEE Someone is showing off her limited Español.

Friday, as I was coming down a steep trail that wraps around the side of the mountain, a man and his adult son were waiting to meet Henry. They explained that from a distance they had seen something big and white walking down with me but with the sun on him, they couldn’t quite tell what it was.

Henry’s stature and his unusual coloring draw so many people to him that my mountain social life has really expanded. A shyness that I sensed in Henry has been replaced by curiosity and a bit of attention seeking. He watches everyone and expects them to say hello and pet him. I think I sense a tiny bit of his inner diva coming out.

ELBEE I’m so proud.

GUS & STANLEY So are we.

The mountain meetings are a gift as far as his socialization is concerned. If he’s ever going to follow in his big brothers’ therapy dog paw prints, he needs to be comfortable with people of all ages, shapes and sizes. We go to class for obedience and behavioral issues, but you can’t sign up for all of our trail interactions.

A few times I’ve been surprised by people remembering him after only one meeting. Kids who have briefly played with him on the trails will call out “Hi Henry” when they see him again. After one hike, a little boy rolled down the car window and yelled “Bye Henry” as we were walking down the street. I couldn’t help but smile.

Are Henry and Gus laughing at my post?

Every Day Is National Dog Day

Last Thursday was National Dog Day but anyone who has ever loved a dog knows that everyday is National Dog Day.

ELBEE That’s a given.

Dogs have been a part of my life as far back as I can remember. In my early pictures there always seemed to be a dog in my stroller.

ELBEE I hate to judge but she was a pretty unattractive toddler. Her mother put them there so that people could say “how cute,” without having to lie. Remember, it was before photoshop.

About fifteen years ago, my love and respect for dogs rose to a whole new level when Charley, my first therapy dog, came into my life. I will never forget how brave I felt walking into UCLA with him by my side or the smiles that greeted us. Thinking about his first bed visit with a woman waiting for a heart transplant still fills me with wonder.

Over the past month or so, sitting outside early in the morning with Henry has given me time to reflect. It’s very peaceful and quiet. I think about Charley and Elbee who are gone.

ELBEE We are gone but never will be forgotten if I have anything to do with it.

I also think about Gus and Stanley who have done so many Zoom calls over the pandemic that I’ve lost count. A few weeks ago when restrictions were slightly lifted, I was so grateful to take them in to see the kids in the neuropsych units in person. Two of those visits have stuck with me.

One was with a teenage girl who had lost her dog and started crying as soon as she saw Stanley. He immediately walked over and began leaning on her and kissing her face as she wrapped her arms around him. The other was with a teenage boy who was simply missing his own dog and had a similar interaction.

What really brought it home to me was their response the next time I came in and brought Gus. The two teens lit up at seeing him. Then each of them quietly shared with me how much Stanley had helped them.

The other morning, as the moon was setting, I had my own therapy dog moment. Tired from getting up so early with Henry but getting a kick out of watching him wrestle and run laps with Gus and Stanley, I made a huge mistake.

I started to read the newspaper which seems to be filled with nothing but depressing and anxiety provoking stories. Somehow the dogs sensed the change in mood. They stopped romping and cuddled around me.

Inspired by moments like that, I celebrate them every day. They are kind and loving heroes.

Kindness In the Neighborhood

Elbee, the outspoken conscience of my blog, made me realize the importance of socializing dogs at a young age, especially if they were going to be therapy dogs.

ELBEE Aw. Thank you.

When he was a puppy, I had a weird virus and was stuck at home with him for a few months. When I was finally able to take him out to meet people, he had become a little skittish.

ELBEE I did not see that one coming.

With Henry, I have once again become a woman on a mission, introducing him to all sorts of people. The problem is that Henry seems to get larger every day so it’s not that easy to carry him around stores and offices, like I did with Gus and Stanley. Instead, I’ve been doing meet and greets at the house.

ELBEE She’s obsessed.

Robert, our mail carrier, has always been a favorite of Stanley’s. If he sees Robert drive by and he doesn’t stop to say hello, Stanley lets out this very strange sort of crying bark.

STANLEY Excuse me for being happy to see him.

Robert had a sweet meeting with Henry a few days after he arrived. This week I asked him if he’d mind stopping by again.

He was happy to do it and Henry was delighted to see him. Calm, with tail wagging, he nuzzled against him. Robert has another fan.

Chuck, a neighbor, often walks by our house with his Golden Retriever, fittingly named Grace. Early the other morning, Stanley was barking at the window announcing that they were going by. Barefoot and still in my pajamas, I ran out the front door and yelled for them to come back. It led to another successful encounter for Henry.

ELBEE She has no shame.

Quinn, the teenage girl next door, has been an angel with Henry. Her family even bought him a welcome to the neighborhood gift. Recently Quinn and her friend Maddy, both dog lovers, stopped by to play with him.

To my delight, Maddy loves to take dog photos. Her phone was filled with all sorts of wonderful pictures. She took these adorable shots of Henry.

The girls’ energy was so good that when I let Gus and Stanley join in, things didn’t turn into utter chaos. Maddy even managed to get this pack portrait.

Yesterday, Quinn came over by herself to spend some time with Henry. Every photo that I took of them made me smile.

I am so grateful for all of this support in training Henry. I hope that one day in the future I can say thank you by having him walk into the hospital by my side.

Stanley Is a Rug Thief

After last week’s encounter with the terrible teen at the beach, I wanted to write something on a lighter, funnier note.

ELBEE Oh, it’s about me.

It’s actually about Stanley. He is half Golden Retriever but he doesn’t retrieve. He’s not even very interested in toys unless he can chew them up.

STANLEY Truthfully, I find fetch a little boring.

Now throw rugs, that’s a whole different story. He’s obsessed with them. It’s ironic because when he and Gus nap together, they look like a throw rug.

Stanley has a combination of Charley’s sweetness and, how shall I put it, Elbee’s goofiness.

ELBEE Excuse me. I’d call it charm.

When someone comes into the house, Stanley will eagerly greet them and then run to grab a rug from the kitchen or the bathroom. Instead of bringing it over or sneaking away with it, he will literally prance by without looking at anyone. It’s as if he wants you to see him but pretends that he doesn’t.

When my husband gets home, Stanley will wait a minute or two, pick up the large black rug by the kitchen sink and then strut right by him. After he deposits it in the living room, he comes back for another one. He usually drops that on top of the first one and then may go for a third.

Gus looks as if he’s waiting on his special rug to eat breakfast. He’s not. He’s guarding it so that Stanley won’t drag it into the yard.

Baffled, I asked a few of my dog people friends why they thought he was doing this. One figured that he was bored. Another said he was probably just looking for attention. A third one suggested that he didn’t like my decorating and was moving things around.

ELBEE So that’s why he was trying to order from Living Spaces.

Then it dawned on me. As the namesake of my brother Stanley, he’s living up to his legacy. Stan was a television director and a favorite of so many that he worked with. His optimism and good nature were a gift.

Charismatic and a total dog lover, he was one of the most special people in my life. He was also one of the funniest. He could literally make me laugh until I cried. We had so many inside jokes.

Sadly, my brother passed away from colon cancer over 20 years ago when he was just 47 but his spirit is still with me. Every time that Stanley saunters by with a throw rug in his mouth, I can hear my brother’s great big laugh.

Virtual Trial and Error

Over the past few challenging COVID-19 months, doing virtual visits with the kids in the UCLA neuropsych units has been a real learning experience. It’s been a challenging process of trial and error.

During our in person visits, as soon the dogs arrive, the excitement level goes up. The hospital setting fades away as the kids dance with Gus or give Stanley a belly rub when he sprawls on the floor. I’ll even catch kids who claim they’re not interested, sneaking a peak or smiling at a trick.

The virtual visits are kind of like those television shows that are taping remotely without audiences. Without the physical presence of the dogs, it takes a lot more to get the patients engaged and keep them involved.

One morning, with a little luck, it all came together and I saw what was possible. The dogs were relaxing after our walk so I had the younger kids yell, “Wake up Gus and Stanley.” That immediately got their attention…the dogs and the kids.

Gus, having a painful skin issue, was wearing a “cone of shame.” When the kids saw it they instantly commiserated with him. It was touching to see how they forgot their own problems while they were worrying about his.

ELBEE He was milking it for all it was worth.

When I put Stanley in a hat and glasses, it drew a lot of giggling. One boy couldn’t believe that Stanley would wear the glasses. Another suggested I dress him up like Sherlock Holmes.

In the teen unit they were very involved playing cards so I knew the dogs were going to be a tough sell. Then I noticed two of the boys playing chess. Genuinely curious and impressed, I asked where they’d learned.

One of them said that his father and his uncle had taught him when he was very young. I was fascinated when he shared that he’d earned a chess merit badge when he was in the cub scouts. Who knew?

ELBEE I was a grand master in my day. I tried to teach Gus and Stanley when I was still there, but they got stuck at checkers.

The easy conversation led him and the others to ask about the dogs. They commented on Stanley’s size so I let him stand and put his paws on my shoulders. That brought a lot of laughter.

Not for a second did I take their involvement for granted. I was so grateful to see the enjoyment in their facial expressions and body language. I was also grateful that during this pandemic, the therapists at UCLA have found a way for us to keep sharing the magic of the dogs, even virtually. There are some days when it works and others when it doesn’t but the moments of connection are priceless.

My Life Has Gone to the Dogs

A few months ago, right before COVID-19 took over, I started a post about my life becoming more dogcentric than ever. It was one of those overly committed weeks with hospital visits, the adult health center, special events. The rare times that I was alone, at least three people commented that they almost didn’t recognize me without the dogs.

ELBEE Not sure if “dogcentric” is a word but it should be.

Little did I know that the time spent with the dogs that week would pale in comparison to the new reality of the shelter at home orders. I don’t think that I’ve ever spent this much time with another living being. Not other dogs. Not my hamsters when I was a kid. Definitely not with people.

We’re together almost 24/7. Just me, Gus, Stanley and sometimes my husband. There’s lots of walking involved. We watch tv together. I share my deepest thoughts and look to them for emotional support when I’m down.

They don’t care if I cook. They like my sweats. They’re great listeners. They’re spotting me on my workouts although they are stealing my weights.

There have been memes, from a dog’s perspective, making fun of our sudden human neediness.

ELBEE I’m surprised she knew what a meme was.

GUS & STANLEY We didn’t mind the walks until the weather changed. Seriously, hats, glasses and masks?

The other day, I was chatting with a fellow dog lover about the comfort of sheltering in place with the dogs. She totally agreed. Her problem is that aside from the dogs, she is also home with three teenagers who constantly accuse her of loving the dogs more than she loves them. When I shared that years ago I’d written a post called “Top 12 Reasons Dogs Are Better than Children,” her response was “you could only come up with 12?”

ELBEE I think I love this woman.

I could truly sympathize. I remember a time in the distant past when my daughters were 13, 16 and 19. One was threatening to run away. I told them that if anyone was to take off it was going to be me. Being at home together for two months would have been insane. I think the dogs would have run away.

On the other hand, each time one of my daughters was old enough to fly the coop, I was a blubbering mess. The dogs helped me through, filling the void, sticking by my side.

Having dogs to fill the empty nest always seemed like a great idea. Who knew that in the midst of a pandemic it would be genius! I want to thank Gus and Stanley for helping us through the last couple of months. They have offered nothing but patience, love and the reassurance that one day everything will be okay.

People Say the Darnedest Things!

Walking alone I get an occasional hello, usually if I smile at someone first. When I walk with the Doods, people will say almost anything. The presence of the dogs seems to break down all sorts of barriers and filters. A man passing us on the sidewalk looked a little concerned about the dogs. I said “Don’t worry they’re friendly.” To which he relied, “I wasn’t worried about the dogs. I was worried about you.”

ELBEE That was classic. It’s so entertaining to watch everything from up here.

A middle-aged homeless woman asked if the Doods were friendly. Yes, I’m judging. She was disheveled, wearing a tattered dress that was hanging off her shoulders, one shoe and one slipper.

ELBEE Okay, I’ll give her that one.

After I reassured her, she sat down with them and started sharing a lot about her life. When she was younger she got in some sort of trouble and was given community service at a dog rescue. I was expecting her to tell me that it had been such a positive experience. Unfortunately, one of the dogs she was brushing bit her.

ELBEE That was a terrible story.

One morning I was strolling down a quiet residential street with Gus and Stanley and we were all, for whatever reason, extremely copacetic.

STANLEY Is that bad?

GUS I’m not sure.

ELBEE Oy vey!

A woman walking a medium sized Doodle on the other side of the street wanted to bring her dog over to visit. Enjoying the peace and quiet, knowing that Stanley would get overly excited and want to run around, I politely asked her not to.

She ignored me and came running over with her dog. Sure enough, Stanley wanted to play and started doing the puppy bounce. That’s when the woman told me, in the most condescending voice, “Apparently your dogs are hyper. Mine’s not.”

GUS Hey, I’m innocent.

I admit, she had ruined my mood. Fortunately a few minutes later we met a woman who said that Gus and Stanley should win the “dog beauty award.” Then as she was petting the two of them and Stanley began leaning against her, she remarked, “he’s so soulful.” My day was back on track.

Recently the dogs and I ran into a woman who’s a neighborhood regular. We’d always waved and said “hi” but never really chatted. Suddenly she stopped me and said, “I’ve wanted to ask you something for the longest time. Were you and your dog in I Love You Man?”

When I modestly answered, “Yes, we had a small cameo,” she exclaimed “Are you kidding? That was an iconic moment!”

ELBEE I’m not sure if I’m having a bigger issue with “modestly” or “iconic.”

As a side note, Elbee is back in my posts because he brings a certain rhythm and joy to my writing. And let’s face it, he is a talking dog.

Therapy Dogs, Always on Call

I was never the most graceful kid on the block. As a matter of fact some people have referred to me as a klutz.

ELBEE Let’s see. Among other things, she tore her hamstring sort of running, broke her foot walking, and gave herself a black eye in “remedial” gymnastics. And lets not forget the dislocated shoulder in yoga.

STANLEY Is that possible? I’m canceling puppy yoga.

A few days ago when I was walking Elbee and Gus, I bumped into a large concrete thing sticking out of the sidewalk and tore a huge piece of skin off my leg. I think it’s because I was paying more attention to the dogs than to where I was going.

ELBEE AND GUS We are totally innocent.

I knew that a simple bandaid wasn’t going to cut it, so I called the husband who, fortunately, happened to be working in a wound care clinic that day. Not surprised at all, knowing my history, he told me to come on down. I was halfway there when he texted me to bring Gus. A few of the patients wanted to meet him. With blood dripping down my leg, I went home to get him.

ELBEE She’s being overly dramatic.

As I limped into the waiting room, everyone practically broke into applause at the sight of Gus. An older couple in particular was delighted. They had wanted to see him for quite some time and had even been planning to come down to one of his demos at the Science Center.

We finally made it past his fans and into a treatment room. I was lying on a table when Terry, one of the nurses, came in to take care of me. Gus, who had been sitting quietly on the floor, suddenly stood up and put his legs on the edge of the table. He refused to move until Terry picked him and put him next to me.

As Terry, and then the husband, cleaned and dressed the wound, Gus stayed cuddled by my side. It was as if he knew it was his job to help me deal with the pain, okay it was only a little discomfort.

When we were leaving, there was a very handsome young man sitting in the waiting room. His face lit up as he asked me to bring the dog over to him. I could tell that he had some issues, but he was completely at ease petting Gus. After a few moments, he looked up at me and said, “Thank you. That just made my day.” When I hear those words, it always makes my day.

P.S. Stanley is obviously not an official working dog but this week, like Gus, he was my personal therapy dog. Aside from the whole leg thing, I had either the plague or some sort of cold that refused to go away. Stanley made it his business to comfort me.

ELBEE Some of you may be saying, “Aww.” I’m going with drama queen!

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.