heroes – Me and the Doods.com

Stanley Is a Dodger Dog

While I was writing this post, a rare tropical storm was wreaking havoc in Southern California. Then, when I thought things couldn’t get much crazier, we had a small earthquake! I turned on the news and heard it was a 5.1 quake centered in a neighboring county. One of the reporters said it was a “gentle” quake.

ELBEE Isn’t that an oxymoron

Can you use a Dodger break?

Wednesday afternoon, the UCLA People Animal Connection had a special visit with the team. About a dozen dogs and Blue Moon, the miniature horse, brought animal therapy and love to Dodger Stadium. Like the Taylor Swift event (Henry is a Swifty ) a few weeks ago, it was a bit chaotic but fun.

There was no question which of the Doods to take. For as long as I can remember, Stanley has been a Dodger fan. When the games are on, he flops down on his spot in the family room and watches the tv. He doesn’t take his eyes off the screen.

Gus and Henry just don’t have the same enthusiasm, although when Gus met Clayton Kershaw he stared up at him adoringly.

We greeted staff, then mingled with fans who arrived early. And who can resist a photo with a giant Dodger. Well, actually, Gus had a moment a few years ago but wasn’t quite so comfortable. And Henry met him at the hospital and was terrified.

Even though it was a hot afternoon, we headed out to the warning track for a meet and greet with some of the players. Being a “grandma groupie,” that was such a treat.

ELBEE Unfortunately, one time she shared that information with manager Dave Roberts.

Several Dodgers, including Freddie Freeman and James Outman, were on the field but this photo with superstar Mookie Betts was a highlight for me.

Despite wanting to stay there and take it all in, it was still very warm so I went into the dugout to get Stanley some shade. To my delight, sitting there were former player and now announcer Nomar Garciapara along with sideline reporter Kirsten Watson.

They were both so nice but I want to give a shoutout to Kirsten. She had a small, battery operated fan, and the whole time we were chatting she held it above Stanley to help keep him cool.

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 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.

Tell Me Something Good

When I’m driving to UCLA on Wednesday mornings, I listen to KIIS FM on the radio. I like the music and it’s a welcome diversion from the news.

ELBEE She doesn’t know who half the singers are.

Ryan Seacrest does a segment called “Tell Me Something Good” which encourages people to call in and share something positive. Although I have never called in, I know without a doubt that as soon as I walk into the hospital with the dogs, something good is going to happen.

Actually at UCLA it’s often as soon as I drive up to the busy valet stand in front. Everyone is very welcoming, but there is one young woman who really stands out. She greets me by name and then peeks into the car as she asks “Did you bring Gus or Stanley today?” She’s an absolute delight.

Visiting kids in the neuropsych units, I never cease to be amazed at how the dogs can bring so much joy to young people with major problems.. Wednesday, several of the teenage girls were sitting on the floor with Gus smiling and chatting as they put French braids in his hair.

ELBEE They also told her she looked like Dolly Parton but quickly added that it was a good thing.

On a recent Friday, two more good things stood out when I took Stanley to Tarzana Hospital. We went in to visit a little boy who was around 5 or 6. His face lit up when he saw Stanley in the doorway of his room. As soon as Stanley walked over to the bed, the adorable patient started laughing, a great big belly laugh that only got louder as he petted Stanley and clapped for a few of his tricks.

Then I noticed his special dinosaur blanket on the bed, and coincidentally happened to have a pair of dinosaur sunglasses with me.

ELBEE Of course she did.

When I put them on Stanley, the boy burst into a such a huge laugh, he had everyone else in the room, including his parents, laughing.

When we were leaving the hospital, it was very hot outside and I was worried about walking Stanley on the concrete, even the short distance to the garage. A security guard, realizing my concern, said that he’d be happy to watch him while I got my car. A few minutes later, I pulled up to the shaded area where they were both waiting and thanked him as he helped Stanley into the back seat.

These may all sound like simple moments but I barely had to think about it before I could tell you something good.

A Moment in the Park

I was going to write something much lighter this week but then I had an experience with Henry that almost moved me to tears. We were at a neighborhood park for his obedience class but what he did goes far beyond your basic sit and stay.

After beginning class in a small area of the park, we were working on loose leash walking around the playground and the basketball court. Suddenly, Henry started to pull toward a tall, slim casually dressed young man who had an impressive head of curly, shoulder-length dark hair.

The man, who was standing in the shade by the bleachers with a few other people, smiled when he saw Henry coming toward him. On a constant mission to socialize Henry and totally breaking class protocol, I asked if Henry could say hello to him. He answered “of course” and began petting him. We chatted for a bit, I even complimented his plaid tennis shoes, and then I went to catch up with the class.

About five minutes later, I was surprised to see the man standing right next to us. As I turned to him, he quietly said that he wanted to tell me how much the interaction with Henry had meant to him. He was so earnest and sincere, I forgot that I was at an obedience class in the middle of a park.

Without elaborating, he told me that he was at a low point in his life and really struggling. When Henry came over it was as if a weight had been lifted off of him for a few moments. I could tell how desperately he wanted me to understand. Before he headed back to his spot by the bleachers, he shared that nothing like that had ever happened to him with a dog.

At the end of class, I walked over to say goodbye and to let him pet Henry again. He thanked me profusely. He felt as if the universe had reached out to him. I was so deeply touched by his expression of gratitude. Because of the presence of a dog, this man had opened up to a stranger and felt comforted.

This morning, by coincidence, I picked up a packet of Truvia sweetener that read, “Be the reason that someone smiles today.” Henry you were that reason. Thank you!

It Was a Good Week

That may seem like an overly optimistic title in these continuously trying times, but Gus and Stanley made it happen. They each had a chance to go into the hospital which was special for me and so many others.

Usually, when I write about the dogs, I’m inspired by an event like the palliative care seminar or a moment with a patient. This week it was a throwback photo that popped up on my Facebook page.

Taken in April 2020, shortly after COVID forced all of the dog visits to be cancelled, it made me appreciate the in-person visits even more.

ELBEE A lot of other photos popped up too… fabulous dogs like moi, crazy flexing, beautiful scenery. Where are her grandchildren?

On Wednesday, Stanley went to UCLA. There is always such an air of excitement whenever one of the PAC dogs walks into the lobby.

As we went from one neuropsych unit to another, everyone, staff included, wanted to give him a hug. Several of the kids tried to convince me to leave him with them, promising to take good care of him.

Friday, I took Gus to Tarzana Hospital. From the moment we walked into the lobby, he was on. His tail was wagging and he seemed to have a constant smile on his face. He was so excited that he was doing his little “dance” on his own and waving at people.

What added a special note to all of our visits was Easter, well actually, Easter accessories. There is nothing like a dog in rabbit ears and sparkly glasses to cheer people up. In our UCLA units, even the adult patients joined the party. They tried on the extra ears I had in my bag. We all played “who wore it best?” It’s no surprise that Stanley won hands down every time.

At Tarzana, so many of the nurses, and a few doctors too, wanted to take photos of Gus. Whenever I asked if anyone would like accessories, the answer was a resounding “yes.” When it came to selfies, they were very excited that I had extra props for them.

**Did you really think I could resist?**

I realize that some of my stories may be repetitive, but I always feel the desire to share the privilege I have of watching therapy dogs at work. I still have the same sense of wonder (with slightly fewer nerves) that I did over fifteen years ago when I began this journey with Charley.

Wishing everyone a happy Easter and a happy Passover from me and the Doods.

A Therapeutic Morning

**Gus & his “cousins,” Finley & Tommy**
**Dec. 2019**

This week, Gus met up with his “cousins” Tommy and Finley for a special visit at UCLA. Their person Donna and I have often worked the three together with great success. Wednesday was no exception.

Recently the staff in one of the medical office suites experienced a traumatic event and called on the dogs for help. A co-worker had suddenly lost consciousness and collapsed at her desk. Despite great effort on their part, she was admitted to the ICU where she is still a patient.

Her friends and colleagues, having extreme difficulty coping, reached out to the People Animal Connection, hoping that the dogs could provide some much needed support.

Donna and I had no idea what to expect but as usual the dogs knew just what to do. From the moment that Tommy, Finley and Gus walked in they worked their magic. They were sweet and loving with no expectations.

Group after group gathered around them in corridors and at work stations. People were smiling, laughing and hugging the dogs. Everyone had their phones out for photos. Some were sharing pictures of their own dogs. For a brief time, they were able to escape from their grief and anxiety.

Someone knocked on a doctor’s office door to see if he might like a visit. I don’t think I have ever seen anyone’s face light up so quickly at the sight of the dogs. With a huge smile, he immediately lay down on the floor with them. He was the personification of the joy of pet therapy.

Sorry to break the mood but I have to be totally honest. The morning didn’t go without a slight hitch. When we were taking our three little heroes out for a potty break, Gus peed on Tommy.

GUS It was a complete accident. I can’t believe she shared that.

ELBEE Talk about taking a left turn into inappropriate.

If We Ever Needed Therapy Dogs…

A recent Los Times Angeles article spoke about how front line workers are currently reporting high levels of stress and anxiety. To cope with the emotional exhaustion, they are using everything from therapy to support groups to meditation. It was no surprise that many are turning to dogs for comfort. Some nurses are even certifying their own dogs to help each other out.

The article was reflective of what’s happening at UCLA. The patients, of course, are happy to have the dogs back. A boy in the neuropsych unit quietly shared that he had known all of the Doods since Charley and how much the visits meant to him. A man being wheeled to the elevator on a gurney smiled and waved. So did the orderly pushing him.

It’s that orderly and others on staff who need the support more than ever. Over the past few months, I’ve written about the warm welcome back to the dogs but the situation has intensified. I’ve lost count of how many times I’ve heard nurses and doctors say, “Thank goodness the dogs are back.” People on staff have hugged Gus and Stanley as they’ve looked up and said, “I don’t know how I’d have gotten through the day without this.”

During my last visit to UCLA, I stopped in the volunteer office with Stanley. The reception was warm and loving. When I mentioned how touched I was by the reaction of the staff, one of the volunteers said she knew exactly what I meant.

She happened to be in the hall when someone from the People Animal Connection walked by with her dog. Immediately, a group in hospital uniforms gathered around simply to have a moment. The volunteer saw such emotion, such joy and relief, that it brought tears to her eyes.

Over the past fifteen years I’ve often shared the wonder I feel at being a part of what Charley, Elbee, Stanley and Gus have been able to accomplish. They have taught me about unconditional kindness. They have shown me miracles.

The pandemic has brought my appreciation of their abilities and my sense of responsibility to new levels. Knowing what the dogs can do and then seeing it taken away when it was most needed was so difficult.

Watching them help the healing process in this new, uncertain world, I feel a deeper sense of gratitude. I am also inspired to hang in there with Henry as he finds his place.

On a totally separate note, if the Dodgers had lost the series in San Francisco, there wouldn’t have been enough therapy dogs to comfort me!

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.

Doug and Stanley

I was going to take this week off in honor of my big birthday, but then Doug, my husband, and Stanley had a moment that I really wanted to share.

ELBEE Her first birthday card was from a hearing aid company saying that she might want to stop in if that tells you anything.

Starting as far back as Charley, Doug has been supportive of my work with the dogs, but it wasn’t until recently that he became a true believer. Over the years, as a surgeon at Providence Tarzana, he saw faces light up when the dogs were in the hospital and he heard special stories about their visits.

Back when we were still taking polaroids, one of his elderly patients clutched a picture of Charley to her chest as she was wheeled into the operating room. When she awoke in recovery, the photo was the first thing she asked for.

When I’d bring one of them to his office, the whole atmosphere would change. Patients in the waiting room would forget they were waiting.

In the past few years the dogs have become very popular in the clinic where my husband is working. He had a birthday recently, and although he’s not big on celebrations, the staff insisted on a little party, of course with Gus and Stanley in attendance. They made everyone’s day.

GUS & STANLEY We were the center of attention. It was fabulous.

Despite having seen the dogs in action for so long, it was a quieter moment that turned my husband into a true believer. We were watching America’s Got Talent when it happened.

ELBEE Yes, that is their guilty pleasure. She still thinks she’s going to be discovered. Oy!

With three adorable children waiting in the wings, a tall, handsome 51 year old man was sharing his story. He revealed that his wife had been killed in the helicopter crash that had taken Kobe Bryant and eight other people. When he began to sing an emotional version of “Take a Look at Me Now,” it brought everyone, including Doug, to tears.

Stanley, who was relaxing on the outside deck, suddenly came running into the bedroom. With the hot summer weather, he loves to cool off out there and generally has to be convinced to come inside. That evening, somehow sensing what was going on, he went right to my husband and began leaning on him. Like Charley before him, Stanley was offering the “comfort lean.”

The look of amazement on Doug’s face said it all. As he stood there with Stanley pressed against his legs, he felt his intuition and his pure desire to help. In an unexpected setting, he had experienced the magic of dog therapy.