dogs – Page 3 – Me and the Doods.com

Hallelujah! Our Internet Is Back!

I am not exactly a tech wizard.

ELBEE But she is the master of understatement.

To be fair, I grew up before technology had taken over the world.

ELBEE She didn’t even have a cell phone. Can you imagine?

I remember so clearly a moment in high school when someone stopped me in the hall and asked, “Did you hear the president died?” My response was, “What’s the punchline?” It was the day that Kennedy was assassinated. Now, shocking as it is, we hear that kind of news all of the time and we know it’s real.

The last couple of weeks have been a huge challenge. Everything seemed to go wrong. First it was our internet. I finally found out it was a neighborhood outage. I called AT&T so many times they probably had a sign up, like a wanted poster, to avoid my number. It took two and a half weeks but it’s back.

Then it was my blog. The link didn’t work for days. And for good measure, the other afternoon, the power in the house went out and then our landline died. Thank heavens I had therapy dogs on call.

To tell you how bad it was, the dogs had gotten so comfortable on the computer during COVID, I was desperate enough to wonder if they could do anything to help. They were more at ease on Zoom calls than I was. When a friend suggested giving Gus a shot, I thought, why not?

Fortunately, everything is up and running and the week ended on a very positive note. Gus and his new buddy Toto went to Olive View Medical Center to visit with the residents. Apparently, doing a residency now is just as stressful as it was years ago when my husband was doing his.

Sitting on a grassy area outside of the hospital, it was wonderful to watch the doctors interacting with the dogs. There was so much joy and laughter, you could almost feel them relax as they hugged Gus and Toto.

Everyone had their phones out for photos. I found this one to be so special. The matching smiles on Gus and the young doctor summed up the afternoon.

Then I noticed the shaft of light on the left and thought it might be Charley, my very first therapy dog, watching down.

ELBEE Hello! It was me.

Oh Henry

A few weeks ago, I wrote about making easy New Year’s resolutions. What I want to add is that you need to be flexible. There is no shame in dropping one or making it more user friendly.

Henry was the focus of two of mine. One seems to be going in the right direction. The other one, not so much. The resolution to bench press him may take a little more effort than I thought. I’m back in the gym, building up my strength, but to lift a dog that tall may be awkward.

ELBEE Oh and I suppose it has nothing to do with his weight.

The resolution to turn him into a certified therapy dog is going much better. I have taken him so many places recently and have used each one as a chance to work on his skills and his socialization.

His vet appointment was the perfect training opportunity. As soon as we walked in, he had to use a bit of self-control to keep from playing with the other dogs. The scale, where he weighed in at eighty pounds, was great for practicing his sit and stay.

ELBEE Bench press that!

In the small exam room, Henry, startled when the vet walked in, barked once or twice. After that, it was smooth sailing. Dr. Sanders was like his new best friend. Henry gave him his paw and looked into his eyes as if he had something to share. When Dr. Sanders took him into the back to finish his checkup, Henry pranced by his side.

I also brought him down to the wound care center where my husband works. The staff has been incredibly helpful in training Henry, and Stanley before him. The visit didn’t disappoint. Henry greeted everyone like old friends. He nuzzled them, sat for petting and posed for photos. It was a lovefest.

I was also fortunate enough to have the opportunity to bring him into the lobby at UCLA for a practice run. To be honest, I was a bit nervous. The lobby is huge, busy and noisy but my friends from PAC, who’d met Henry several times, felt that he was ready.

They were right! He mingled with everyone, had no reaction to the wheelchairs that passed by and even performed a trick or two. A few times, I heard the words that always warm my heart, “He made my day.”

To see Henry join his “brothers” Gus and Stanley as an official therapy dog would be, perhaps, my greatest New Year’s resolution ever.

Coming Together in the New Year

Thanks to my New Year’s semi-resolution to try and “get” football, I happened to be watching the Cincinnati-Buffalo game (my husband is from Buffalo) when 24 year old Bill’s player Damar Hamlin suffered a cardiac arrest. What struck me, as he was taken away by ambulance, was how everyone pulled together. Players and fans from each side hugged each other, united in their concern for that young man. There was even a spontaneous prayer circle on the field.

Lately, I have noticed a large number of television spots, and neighborhood signs, encouraging people to put aside their differences and reach out to each other. I’m not being naive and ignoring all of the divisiveness in the world, but that doesn’t preclude taking small steps in a positive direction.

I am so grateful that the Doods lead me in that direction. Part of what I love about walking with them is the way they draw all sorts of people to us. I will often end up in deep conversation with someone I might never have spoken to if I’d been alone.

This is especially true when we go into the hospital. Somehow the presence of the dogs allows people to open up. When Gus was at Tarzana Hospital on Friday, an elderly woman, in tears, shared how she had lost her dog to coyotes but now was hoping to rescue a senior dog or maybe even two.

As we were heading for the parking garage, another woman stopped me. She wanted to tell me how much it had meant when Gus visited her friend who had been a patient a few months earlier. Then she scrolled through her phone to show me a video she’d taken. Seeing Gus do his little dance and then cuddle with the woman on her bed, made my day.

At UCLA on Wednesday, Stanley lit up the faces of everyone in the neuropsych units as soon as he walked in. The younger kids and the teens laughed at some of his antics, like rolling over for belly rubs, then hugged him for comfort. A little girl who was crying because she missed her dog, wrapped her arms around him.

But it was in the adult unit that we had a moment that took me by surprise. Like the opening of this post, it also involved prayers. To the delight of the patients, Stanley “says his prayers.” He sits in front of a chair, puts his paws up on the seat, then bows his head. As he was about to begin, a young man asked if it was okay if he said his prayers with Stanley. I answered, “of course.” He bowed his head by the next chair and said, “God, thank you for bringing Stanley the dog here today. Amen.”

I say thank you for the privilege of holding their leashes as they bring people together.

New Year’s Resolutions Made Easy

**Discussing my resolutions** **with Stanley & Henry. They don’t judge!**

So many people stress over their New Year’s resolutions then feel like total failures when they blow them a week later. I’ve figured out the secret to success. Just make your resolutions easier. I’ll share some of mine, in no particular order, to show you how it’s done.

1. Cook less.

ELBEE I don’t think that’s possible.

2. Stop eating chocolate. I’m kidding.

3. Now that I’m back to regular gym workouts, go for Guiness Book of Records “Strongest Granny.”

ELBEE There is no such thing.

4.Bench press Henry before he can bench press me. It’s a long shot but I need some challenges.

5. Get Henry certified as a therapy dog so that he can share the love like Gus and Stanley.

6. Teach each dog a new trick.

7. Do a headstand once a week and touch my toes once a day. Notice, as in resolution 6, I’m keeping the numbers low.

8. Sing more.

ELBEE Hopefully not karaoke!

9. When struggling up a really steep trail, don’t take it as an age crack when someone says, “good job,” or “keep it up.”

10. Speaking of age, follow the advice of my late Grandma Lil who said, “Stand up straight and walk fast so no one will know your age.” She wore high heels at 80!

11. Be nicer to bikers who come barreling down single track trails with no bells, or at least don’t swear at them.

ELBEE She will never get past that issue no matter how many resolutions she makes.

12. Climb Stunt Ridge. I haven’t done it in years and the challenge would do me good..

13. Figure out football.

14. And here’s a suggestion. Resolve not to make any New Year’s resolutions!

I am grateful to say that 2023 started on a positive note. My friend Donna and I took Gus and his buddies Tommy and Finley into UCLA to visit. Their wagging tails and loving demeanor brought a happy new year to everyone they met.

Wishing you all a wonderful, happy, healthy new year!

Twas the Week Before Christmas

When the title, Twas the Week Before Christmas, popped into my head several days ago, I had very different expectations.

ELBEE Wonder how that title just “popped” into her head.

Gus and Stanley had a full schedule coming up. I was really looking forward to it because the dogs visits are so meaningful at this time of year. My friend Donna and I have even started our own informal tradition of taking the dogs into the hospital on Christmas Day.

Then, in one moment, it all changed. My husband Doug tested positive for Covid. Out of an abundance of caution, I cancelled all of the visits.The Doods immediately went into therapy dog mode at home, keeping an eye on Doug and comforting him.

On Christmas Eve morning, after testing negative, I took Gus and Stanley for a walk. I wasn’t really feeling very festive when we started out but a couple of random encounters changed that.

ELBEE Is “Christmas eve morning” a thing?

First, I ran into a few people walking their dogs together. One of the men called out, “you visited my daughter in the hospital years ago.” It was something he’d never forgotten. Unfortunately, his dog began barking and lunging towards us which upset Gus and Stanley.

Gus & Stanley Excuse us for being pacifists.

Then I was heading up a side street when I noticed an adorable holiday display at the end of a driveway. I was about to take a picture of Gus and Stanley sitting in front of Santa and his family when the woman who lived there came out.

ELBEE I thought she was going to tell her she was trespassing.

She asked me if I’d like her to take my picture with the dogs. After she took a few shots, we fell into conversation. Her name was Jen, like my oldest daughter. Her kids were 7 and 9, the ages of my two younger grandkids.

More importantly, we quickly bonded over our shared belief in the power of dogs. She had 4 of her own, who were being remarkably quiet in the yard. We agreed about their positive energy and their ability to give love without judgment or expectations. As we were talking, a mail carrier came by and offered treats to Gus and Stanley. The whole encounter was so positive, just the way the holidays should be.

ELBEE Like a Hallmark movie.

Wishing everyone health and happiness at this special, but sometimes difficult, time of the year.

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.

Ever Have One of Those Weeks?

This past week, all sorts of things seemed to go wrong.

ELBEE Maybe Mercury was in retrograde. Hey, I dabble

First, Gus and Stanley’s visit to UCLA Powell Library was cancelled. The dogs are wonderful stress busters for the students during finals but there was a one day strike so they couldn’t go in.

Next the low tire pressure light in my car came on which drives me crazy. The alarm in our house began acting up and my emails wouldn’t go through Then in some sort of weird sign from the universe our TV suddenly went mute and had a purple film over the picture.

ELBEE Sadly, she doesn’t make this stuff up.

On Wednesday things began to go in a more positive direction. Thanks to Gus, what could have gone terribly wrong, went right. We were heading up for our regular visits in the Resnick neuropsych units when I was warned that there was a hospital inspection going on.

That made me a little nervous but once we sat down with the kids, it was all about them and Gus. He was at the top of his game, doing tricks, cuddling, rolling over for belly rubs. There was so much positive energy, so much laughter and joy that I forgot about anyone observing.

The week ended on a “high note” with caroling at UCLA.

ELBEE That should have been my line.

About twenty PAC teams in Christmas attire met in the lobby of the hospital for the annual event. Most of us can’t sing, but fortunately, we had some ringers with beautiful voices. We broke into groups and went from floor to floor bringing a bit of the holidays to the patients and staff.

**Gus took a ride with his buddy Tommy**

On pediatrics, I stopped to visit with a few of the nurses. As we talked, they shared that it had been a very rough day. They really needed the dogs. We ended up sitting on the floor in deep conversation with Gus sprawled out for more belly rubs.

For a few moments we were all so connected that I forgot about the event and didn’t even realize that our group had moved on. Gus was offering and receiving pure love which is the true heart of the holiday season.

ELBEE This was a win/win. Gus was bringing joy and no one had to listen to her sing.

First caroling with Charley — **I still carry Charley’s stocking from our first caroling**

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.

Just Joyful

One of the nice things about volunteering with the dogs is the range of activities. Last week I wrote about Gus’s miraculous morning visiting patients in the Resnick neuropsych units at UCLA, but recently, he and Stanley had some more festive moments.

Gus worked the Mattel Children’s Hospital Party on the Pier. There were some parking issues and I had to leave the car a distance away, but Gus was already excited as we walked to the event. He almost bounced down the street in Santa Monica, delighting people along the way.

There was an area on the pier where people could stop and greet a few of the dogs from the People Animal Connection, as well as Blue Moon, the miniature horse. Gus’s outfit was a big hit and seemed to inspire him to perform.

ELBEE OMG he’s wearing a tutu! I’m so jealous!

GUS I think I’m ready for Dancing with the Stars.

A few days later, Gus and Stanley were special guests at the Resnick Fall Wellness Festival, held on a huge outside deck at UCLA. We arrived after the Daisy awards for exceptional nurses so everyone was in a celebratory mood. There was total joy as the dogs, wearing their business casual ties, mingled with the staff, many of whom have known them for years.

They served great food. They had games and even a karaoke station. Jen, the director of PAC, and I were tempted to share our vocal talents but there were photographers.

ELBEE They’re both tone deaf.

Speaking of photographers, suddenly I spotted Reed Hutchinson, proud Doodle owner and long time UCLA photographer. His familiar face brought back such wonderful memories. Over the years he has taken pictures of so many of the PAC dogs, including all of mine.

The last time we had seen him was in February of 2020, just before COVID shut down our visits. He had been there for “Canine Cupids,” capturing images of the dogs as they brought the spirit of Valentine’s Day into the hospital.

Reed reminded me that it was Charley, my first sweet therapy dog, who had turned him into a Doodle lover. He and his wife have one and so does their daughter.

There was a second photographer at Resnick that afternoon who was really having fun with Gus and Stanley. He laughed when I brought out their accessories and smiled when they were cuddling. He joined our Doodle conversation and with a big grin on his face, shared that he had three of his own at home!

ELBEE What are the chances?

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.