dogs – Page 24 – Me and the Doods.com

The Calm Before the Puppy Storm

If all goes according to plan, Stanley will be joining the pack next week. After so many dogs I should be completely relaxed but that hasn’t been the case. Instead, I’ve been so obsessed, you’d think that I had just given birth.

ELBEE I’m surprised she hasn’t had a puppy shower.

It’s only been four years since Gus came into our lives but I feel as if I’ve forgotten everything I ever knew about training a puppy. It’s kind of how clueless I was when I had the oldest daughter. We were leaving the hospital and I remember asking the doctor what I should do with her when I got her home. The poor man looked really nervous.

ELBEE And you wonder why mother of the year has been off the table.

I’ve been reading articles, calling my trainer friends for advice, buying puppy things on line. I tried to tell myself that it was because I’ve been involved with Stanley almost from the time he was conceived. As I shared in an earlier post, I happened to e-mail Billy, the breeder, only a few hours after he’d finished delivering the litter. Not only did he email photos of the newborns, but he even sent a video of one of the births. That was a first for me!

I’m sure the real reason is that I’m hoping for the right Stanley to join Elbee and Gus on the journey that began with Charley. It’s not only about finding a pet, it’s like a job interview. Is he cut out for the work? Does he have any special skill sets?

ELBEE Is she serious?

With Charley, I lucked out. I’d read about therapy dogs and developed an interest but wasn’t specifically searching for one. How serendipitous that a stranger at the vet commented on his amazing temperament and led me to the UCLA program. Elbee was more of a challenge. I was sick during his formative months so had to work harder to catch up on his training. I might have given up if not for the cheerleading of Jack Barron, my mentor at UCLA.

ELBEE Thank goodness he recognized fabulous.

When Gus’s original owner had to rehome him, several people wanted the adorable ball of fluff. Fortunately, Gina, the amazing trainer who picked him out, knew that he was born to be a therapy dog so I won the jackpot.

Will I get lucky again? Will I find another puppy that was born to be a therapy dog or will he need a little more encouragement? Will Stanley have the right heart and temperament? When I go to meet Stanley will I find him or will he find me?

ELBEE I hate to be a buzzkill but has Pack Leader forgotten that wonderful Stanley will be peeing all over the house and eating her shoes?

When Ordinary Becomes Extraordinary

There is a certain rhythm to working with the Doods but then, and always to my surprise, something extraordinary happens. A recent day at UCLA started out in the usual fashion. Gus bounced out of the car in front of the hospital, tail wagging, greeting everyone in his path.

After stops in the lobby, the volunteer center and administration, we made our way up to neuropsych on the fourth floor. The kids in our first unit were so exuberant, it was as if the circus had come to town. Barely containing their excitement, they gathered around Gus on the floor, laughing, petting him, hugging him. They couldn’t seem to get close enough. That is, except for one adolescent girl who sat off to the side, her face expressionless.

When we had seen her previously, she had remained that way, “isolative,” as the therapist explained to me, throughout out entire visit. She stayed on the periphery, not reacting or participating. I also learned that she doesn’t like to come out of her room except when the dogs are there.

This week I sensed something slightly different in her demeanor. She was sitting in the same spot, removed from the group, but I saw a flicker of interest when Gus did his tricks. She even inched a bit closer while still keeping her distance from the other kids. When I asked her if she’d like one of his trading cards, she shook her head no. When I asked if she’d like me to bring Gus over to her, I got a barely audible “yes.”

Observing her behavior, the therapist asked if she’d like to take a walk with me and Gus as a special treat. That got a yes, and the trace of a smile. With both of us holding his leash, we started down the hallway together. As we walked side by side, I could feel the girl relax. With a little encouragement she began to pet Gus.

I’m not sure what it is, but there is something about his soft, fluffy coat that captivates and relaxes people. That young girl was no exception. Before I knew it, she was on the floor gently hugging him.

After a few minutes, we continued walking to the end of the hall. When we reached the door and it was time for us to leave, the therapist looked at her and asked if she knew the dog’s name. With no hesitation and with a big smile on her face, she said, “Gus.” Then the therapist asked her if she knew my name. With an even bigger grin, she turned to me and said, “Ellen.” At that moment, ordinary became extraordinary.

What’s in a Name?

We haven’t met the new puppy yet but he already has a name. Actually he had a name before he was even born.

ELBEE May I remind you that I was named by the receptionist at the vet because no one in the family could agree on my name. She didn’t want to put “Blank” on my chart so she wrote “Little Brother.” I won’t lie. It still stings.

The name is Stanley after my brother who passed away from cancer over twenty years ago. Stanley was one of my favorite people on the planet. I’m funny but he was so funny he could make me laugh until I cried.

ELBEE Excuse me. If she’s funny then I must be the world’s greatest four-legged stand up comic.

As a television director, he knew how to put everyone from the talent to the craft services at ease. People gravitated towards him. He had the gift of making you feel important, but he didn’t like a lot of fanfare for himself.

Shortly before his death, he told me that he didn’t even want a funeral. Not quite believing we were having that conversation, I convinced him to let me do something for his friends. He agreed to a casual gathering in a park. It turned out to be such a perfect day of remembrance. His buddies went so far as to set up their weekly poker game with an empty seat at the table for him.

Stanley would not have wanted a memorial plaque or a commemorative bench in the mountains, but having a puppy named after him would have suited him just fine. He loved dogs. He was like the Jewish dog whisperer. It’s the most appropriate tribute I could give him. Somehow this just felt like the right time to do it.

The daughters, who adored him, completely understood. They were immediately on board. By the way, shout out to them for looking after me since the burglary. Sometimes it’s nice to have daughter/mothers.

The husband, remember he wants to be included, took a little more convincing. He loved my brother but not his name. When I suggested he could call the dog Stan or Stan the Man, he was good with it.

I’m hoping that with training, a little luck and a special namesake, the puppy will join Elbee and Gus on their rounds. How wonderful to honor my brother with a therapy dog named after him.

Even better, the dog’s name often becomes a topic of conversation when we’re visiting with patients and families. Talking about Stanley the dog will be a perfect way to keep the memory of Stanley the man alive. It will be my private way of celebrating someone who was such an important part of my life. I can almost feel his spirit looking on and laughing, the laugh that I have missed for so long.

Healing

Despite having the best possible outcome, the week since the burglary has been pretty stressful. I’m good in crisis mode, it’s the aftermath where I have a problem. A friend texted me, “hope your nerves and the house are on the mend.” The house was the easy part.

Walking into UCLA with Gus (he and Elbee take turns) was a huge step in the healing process. It was all about him and his wagging tail. In the neuropsych unit, as I watched two potentially aggressive kids hug him with gentle care, I totally forgot about myself.

A visit to the ICU brought things even more into focus. Judi, a dear friend for many years, had asked if I would bring a dog to see “Sandy,” a mutual friend whom I hadn’t seen in a very long time. “Sandy” was making slow progress recovering from a severe stroke. To everyone’s surprise, when I walked in, she immediately recognized me and reached out for Gus. She was so happy, content and even funny, as he rested with her.

In one of those strange coincidences, the patient just a few doors down was the granddaughter of very close friends. The teen had been in a car accident and had suffered broken bones and a traumatic brain injury. As Gus and I visited with her distraught grandpa, nothing else mattered except bringing him some comfort.

Driving home from the hospital, despite the difficulty of the visits, I was the calmest that I had been in days. I had spent the morning in situations where, thanks to Gus, I was able to help other people deal with their stress while forgetting about my own.

On Friday I attended a luncheon for the People Animal Connection that really put the exclamation point on the week. The camaraderie in the room was palpable because in different ways we had all shared the same magical experiences. The guest speaker was Ellie Laks from the Gentle Barn, “a sanctuary where animals heal and children learn to hope.” There was a video tribute to Charley and several other amazing PAC dogs that we lost last year. There wasn’t a dry eye in the room.

It was a quote on one of the luncheon gifts, however, that inspired this post and gave me such clarity. Mahatma Gandhi said, “The best way to find yourself is to lose yourself in the service of others.” My sincere gratitude to Charley, Elbee, Gus and hopefully the new puppy for leading me down this path of service. You are selfless. You are my heroes. You helped me through this week.

Breaking and Entering

Wednesday morning, I headed up into the mountains. I had just made it to the top of the butt burner when my cell phone rang. A man identifying himself as a sheriff deputy told me that there was a burglary at my house.

At first I thought it was a crank call. Unfortunately it wasn’t. After finding out that he “thought” the dogs were okay, I turned around and, despite being a devout non-runner, started running down the trail like a lunatic. At the same time I was making frantic phone calls to neighbors, security and family.

When I pulled up in front of the house, the scene was surreal. There were cars all over the street, as well as officers from the sheriff’s department and LAPD, most in plain clothes. I was a little confused because I hadn’t seen this kind of response to other burglaries in the neighborhood.

It turns out they’d received a tip and had been on surveillance. Then I heard something even crazier. Driving home from the trailhead, I’d been listening to a news report about a high speed police chase that had just ended with the arrest of one of three burglary suspects. Turns out that the pursuit had started at our house!

Once inside and smothered by some much needed dog love, I headed up to the bedroom, the only room that had been touched. It was completely ransacked. Even worse, they had smashed a sliding glass door to get in and there was glass everywhere. The dogs hadn’t prevented them from entering the house but fortunately their barking had kept them in one room.

Later in that very chaotic day, I received a call from the police that they’d recovered most of our things. After an hour or two at the station, I couldn’t wait to head home and collapse. This time when I drove up, the law enforcement cars were gone but there was a news van right in front of the house!

I admit that I’m not one to shy away from a news van, but this was pushing it, even for me. I did the interview and to the embarrassment of the daughters added a bit of humor, my way of coping.

In the back of my mind, I knew that my friends would be disappointed in me if I didn’t get the dogs on camera. Elbee was at my feet so I simply picked up Gus. I ended by saying that it was a good thing they were therapy dogs, because I was going to be needing a lot of therapy the next day.

By the way, the Doods have been there for me but Elbee really doesn’t get the whole boarded up door. He keeps sitting there waiting to go out to his favorite spot on the deck.

After dealing with the aftermath of these dirtbags (sorry) who had seriously upset my sense of well being, something happened that reaffirmed my faith in humanity. A man called to say that he’d found my cell phone. Apparently, in my panic to get home from the mountains, it had fallen out of my pack. Waiting for me at the trailhead, this kind stranger simply returned the phone and refused to accept a reward.

I have also been touched by the number of friends and acquaintances who have reached out in love and support. I realize that there are many people that I may not see or even talk to very often but each one holds a very special place in my life and in my heart.

Signs

We are surrounded by signs, in the neighborhood and in the universe. Walking with the Doods, I see so many postings for missing pets. They’re usually dogs and cats or an occasional bird but I’ve seen one for a “friendly” monitor lizard and another for a snake. Really?

I also see signs for jobs, estate sales and lessons. I don’t know whether to learn to dance, sing or swim.

THE DOODS We’d suggest the singing lessons. Just a thought.

There are also messages on homes and businesses. I’ve lost count of how many I’ve seen that say “Beware of Dog.” One house had a “Beware of Dog” sign and another that said, “Celebrate Life.”

ELBEE Is that a mixed message?

Then there’s this unique sign in the window of a local barber shop. (I did a tiny bit of editing.)

There are more subtle signs in nature like the floating butterflies. They remind us that the pets we’ve lost are still watching over us. In March, I shared that when I was in the mountains, standing under “Charley’s tree,” he gave me a sign that it was time to look for a new dog. Unfortunately, he didn’t include directions for finding it.

After searching all sorts of rescues with no luck, I searched my conscience. I decided, that despite my own guilt and the guilt that countless people laid on me, I was going to look for a puppy. After all, I was hoping it would grow up to honor Charley by doing amazing things. I still had no luck.

Then, all of a sudden, the universe started sending me signs. Marsha, the groomer, texted that she had just met a four month old Doodle whose demeanor reminded her of Charley. Even better, the breeder was local. That was so important to me because with all of the terrible “animal on plane” stories lately, there was no way I was going to ship a dog.

ELBEE Ship? As if! I’d insist on at least business class.

The signs just kept on coming. The breeder has the same name as one of the daughters. Plus she went to UCLA!

ELBEE She forgot to mention that it’s Jennifer, the same as the non-dog loving daughter. Is that a sign?

I found out they were expecting a litter in late spring, so immediately got on the waiting list. Despite the fact that I’m terrible at waiting, I managed not to bombard them with phone calls.

About a week ago, not really sure when the puppies were due, I casually emailed just to see how things were progressing. Billy, the husband, got right back to me with the most exciting news. He had been up until 4 in the morning delivering the pups! He usually doesn’t announce the litter for 48 hours so I had an exclusive! If that isn’t a sign, what is?

Stay tuned for more puppy updates. I even have a name picked out, but like the royal family in England, I’ll announce it later.

ELBEE Oy vey

Gratitude

There’s something about Gus that makes the kids in the hospital want to keep him. I think it’s the cute, cuddly factor plus he fits in their laps. Even Metta World Peace felt the same way last week. By the way, that’s a tough post to follow.

Awhile ago, a little boy in the neuropsych unit at UCLA very seriously offered me $68.00 for him. I told him that I was so sorry but couldn’t sell Gus for any price. This week two boys in the teen unit really wanted to buy him. When I shared with them about the boy who had offered me $68.00, I was impressed by their reaction. They truly understood how much that amount of money must have meant to him. Then the bidding war started. When I turned down a million, one of them even went up to a trillion!

ELBEE I bet she she was tempted.

The interchange was light and fun. It totally took us out of the hospital setting. It made me think, as I often do, about the priceless work of therapy dogs. They may perform in different ways and in different settings but the heart of what they do is the same.

They offer comfort from pain, whether physical or emotional. They calm and soothe. They may even coax a reluctant smile or an unexpected laugh from someone having a rough day. They distract from a difficult reality

At times the challenges they face are almost incomprehensible. My cousin, whose sons graduated from Majorie Stoneman Douglas High School, told me that a team of Golden Retrievers had been brought in to offer comfort to the survivors of the mass shooting. Sadly, there are so many places in this country where they are needed right now.

There is a mirror with a message on the wall at Providence Tarzana Hospital that speaks so beautifully to the work of the dogs. It says, “Look at who’s making a difference. You have the power to be a healing presence in someone’s life today.” I tried a selfie with Gus but got mixed results.

ELBEE She really should have let me handle the photography.

On this Memorial Day weekend, a time of remembrance, respect and reflection, I feel such gratitude to be on the path where the dogs have led me. It’s hard to believe the journey began in 2006 when my beloved Charley taught me about pure kindness. He was also a mentor to Elbee and especially to Gus.

In the past, I’ve shared my feeling that his spirit still guides us. Nicole, the daughter in the first picture with Gus, took this amazing photo. You may think the halo is the light at a special time of day. I believe it’s Charley’s way of letting us know that he is keeping a loving watch over Gus.

Strike Busters?

ELBEE A few days ago I did something for the first time in my storied career as a therapy dog. I crossed a picket line. I’m not a scab. I’m more like Switzerland. Besides, I’m a lover not a fighter.

GUS Surprisingly, I’m slightly more political than Elbee. Remember, I ran for mayor but I did run as an independent (Gus for Mayor?).

This week, as part of a larger movement, there was a 3-day strike at UCLA Medical Center. It included service employees (e.g. nutrition, housekeeping, security) as well as patient care technicians (e.g. respiratory therapists, radiology technicians). Also involved were healthcare professionals such as pharmacists and social workers. Many nurses were on strike for part of the period.

Wednesday, our scheduled day at the hospital, the strike was going to be in full swing. I was given the option of staying home with the Doods if I felt uncomfortable. After some consideration, I decided to bring them in. It wasn’t at all a politically motivated decision. It was more about bringing comfort when and where it was most needed.

When we arrived at the hospital, the picket line was stretched across the driveway. I admit it was a bit intimidating. Then one of the strikers held up his hand to signal the crowd to let us through.

Our first stop was at the command center in the basement. Several people were sitting in a line of desks against the wall, waiting to deal with whatever problems might arise. After greeting everyone and sensing that they could really use a break, I asked if they’d like to see the dogs do some tricks. I got an enthusiastic group “yes.”

ELBEE Pack Leader can’t resist a captive audience but the little guy and I were fabulous and got a big round of applause.

If I still had any doubts about bringing the dogs in that morning, they faded away as we visited our regular neuropsych units. A girl on the verge of tears gave a shy grin when Gus curled up in her lap. A severely disturbed teen who had barely responded to the dogs on our last visit, smiled and chatted as he interacted with them. Another patient, who knew the dogs well, laughed and called out “encore” after they did a few tricks. From the time we arrived until the time we left, the mood was light and happy.

Once back in the lobby, I lost count of how many staff, patients and family members came over to hug and pet Elbee and Gus. Many quietly thanked us for being there. Even a police officer we met enjoyed a moment of stress relief.

Driving home, I felt very emotional as I thought about the morning. Therapy dogs don’t take sides. They don’t judge. They offer comfort to whomever needs it. They are there to heal, to love, to provide moments of calm. Simply put, they do their job, albeit in a spectacular way.

“I Vant to be Alone”

ELBEE In case you’re wondering, she got the title of this post from Greta Garbo in Grand Hotel. Yes, I binge watch the classics. A Star is Born is one of my favorites.

Last week when I picked up Gus from his groomer/stylist Marsha, she asked what I thought was an unusual question. She wanted to know if he had a place at home where he could be alone.

It seems that sometimes after their baths, Gus would rather sit in his own area than wait with Elbee, the diva who barks constantly. It may be that Gus wants to avoid guilt by association.

GUS Don’t get me wrong, I love the big guy but sometimes he’s a loudmouth. I feel very zen after my bath and need a little peace and quiet.

ELBEE Excuse me for being entertaining. I like to practice my singing. I also have a lot to say if anyone would bother to listen.

I hate to admit this but I’m starting to believe that Elbee actually does talk. Not like he does here and not like that Husky who says, “I love you,” but with his barking. It’s not random. When my husband, who now wants to be included in my posts, tries to talk to me, Elbee interrupts. When someone comes into the house, family or friend, Elbee will make noise until they give him their undivided attention.

I realize that’s why the hospital setting is so great for him. He holds court. When he falls into the laps of excited kids in the neuropsych units, he’s in heaven. It’s like Cher playing Vegas.

GUS Does that mean I’m his opening act?

Despite being pack animals, dogs, like people, sometimes need their own space. At home the dogs will often hang out together. There are other times, though, when they want to be alone, especially after working.

Charley used to head for the walk in closet. Elbee likes to lie down behind the bathroom door. Riley, our 15 year old Golden, has staked out a spot in the laundry room.

Gus, on the other hand, has a throne. It’s an old leather ottoman in a corner of the hallway, originally put there to cover up an area of carpet that the dogs had eaten.

ELBEE The leather is “faux” and I am innocent. It was Gus.

It has become Gus’s perch. Unlike the others with their quiet, private spots, he likes to sit where he can see out the front window. He has become a real people watcher. Elbee and Riley never bother him when he’s on his throne.

Gus has also developed an unusual habit. He steals my shirts out of the closet. I found a few scattered on the floor. Then I found a couple more hidden behind the throne. It was a little stalkerish but cute. Come to think of it, maybe he needs a little less alone time.

Charley’s Angels

Recently my friend Dennis lost his wonderful 17 year old Italian Greyhound Serena. Like Charley she died peacefully. She was resting in her favorite place… in Dennis’s arms.

ELBEE I might as well remind you before Pack Leader does. Dennis has favored friend status because he told her grandkids that she was not crazy, just unconventional.

When I was hiking with Dennis last week I could hear the sadness in his voice as he talked about Serena. It made me think about losing Charley and about several other friends who’ve lost beloved dogs over the past year.

ELBEE I’m sorry but she really needs to lighten up.

Dogs, especially ones that live to be older, leave a huge void when they’re gone. They’re a major part of our everyday routine. You may not go to lunch or to the movies with your dogs but you spend more time with them than with most of your friends or family. Oops, am I just speaking for myself?

Anyone who has lost a special dog, knows how difficult it can be. It’s a long grieving process. They leave us with nothing but positive memories except for maybe peeing on the rug or eating a favorite shoe.

ELBEE Really?

It’s hard not to hear that familiar welcoming bark when you come home. It’s lonesome to lose that unconditional presence at your side.

As Dennis and I let the Santa Monica Mountains offer their healing power, we agreed that Charley was there to welcome Serena when she passed. There was so much joy in the thought of the two of them together. We could picture them watching over us and laughing. We could only imagine the conversations.

Thinking positively about Charley, Serena and our other dog angels was a lot more comforting than The Rainbow Bridge, a poem people often send when you lose a pet. It’s very sweet and supposed to make you feel better but it’s really depressing. Look it up. It’s almost as sad as the commercial where Sarah Mclaughlin sings In the Arms of the Angels as caged dogs stare at you with huge, sad eyes.

ELBEE & GUS We have to turn the channel when that comes on.

I used to think it was just me but I found out there’s something else a lot of us dog lovers share. When we’re missing a pet who’s passed, we look for signs in nature. A floating butterfly or a darting hummingbird suddenly becomes much more significant. It makes us feel as if their spirits are with us. They may be gone, but like Charley, Serena and all of the other beautiful canine souls who’ve left us, they’re still keeping watch.