PAC – Page 2 – 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.

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.

A Whole Lotta Halloween

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Happy Halloween from a former Halloween Scrooge!

We’re Having a Heat Wave

ELBEE That title makes me feel like singing but it’s too hot.

The recent heat wave almost makes me miss the blizzards we had when I was growing up in Syracuse…almost. It’s tough on the Doods too. They’ll walk to the door when they need to go out and then just stand there when they realize how hot it is.

In the house, they gravitate to the coolest spots. They like to hang out in the shower or wrapped around a toilet.

Stanley and Gus worked last week and I have to say, the perfectly controlled hospital temperature was a treat. At UCLA I drove up to the valet so we walked right into the lobby. Once we were up in our regular neuropsych units, I completely forgot about the heat, caught up in the joy and excitement of Stanley’s arrival.

As we sat on the floor with everyone gathered around us, one boy kept glancing from me to Stanley, and finally asked, “Were you here a few years ago with two other dogs?” Turns out that he remembered meeting Charley and Elbee. Sadly, the kids in neuropsych are frequently in and out of the hospital over time but they all seem to have positive memories of the dogs. Many still have their trading cards.

Since the dogs usually do bring out the best in everyone, I was a little surprised when one of the teens told me he was a bit upset that Stanley was there. Then he laughed and said, “I like to be angry and I can’t be angry when he’s here.”

At Tarzana we had to walk from the garage to the hospital entrance. It wasn’t bad when we got there, but when we were leaving, I was so worried about the hot sidewalk that I carried Gus. One man, seeing me with my arms full, looked at me a little strangely. I nodded to the hot sidewalk and he smiled and said, “You’re a good dog mom.”

STANLEY She never carries me.

In the elevator coming down, Gus had been sniffing a woman’s shoes. Trying to be friendly I had remarked,”Oh, you must have a dog.” I was speechless when she answered, “No. I have a cat and three snakes.”

ELBEE That’s what she gets for being such a yenta!

The Doods Love a Picnic

UCLA had a staff picnic last week. Maybe because COVID has prevented such large gatherings, the mood was especially festive. Gus and Stanley, plus their canine co-workers Beau and Pitzel, were in their glory with all of the attention.

Gus was with his special partner “Aunt” Carol.

From the catering staff, to groups from seemingly every department, even to the EMT’s, people were delighted just to see the dogs. Petting and hugging them was a bonus.

When we had the dogs do tricks or model an accessory or two, it was like the icing on the cake.

ELBEE Seriously? Icing on the cake.

As always, even in the midst of so much activity, there were special moments. A man quietly asked me the dogs’ names. When I introduced Stanley, the most soulful look came over the man’s face. He told me that he’d had a very special chihuahua mix named Stanley that he’d rescued when it was older.

He still missed him every day and had never met another dog with that name. I shared that Stanley was named after my wonderful brother who had been gone for years but whom I still missed. We were two strangers comforting each other.

A woman and her teenage daughter came over to take photos of Gus and Stanley in their fancy glasses. Suddenly, the girl began telling me how much therapy dog visits mean to her.

She has a chronic illness that requires frequent infusions that take up to two hours. She said that as soon as they bring in a dog and put it in her lap her whole mood changes. She feels more comfortable and relaxed and has an easier time with the procedure.

A few minutes later, a smiling young man called out, “Nice to see you again.” As I was scrambling to remember who he was, he reminded me that we’d met at another UCLA event a few years ago. Actually, I’m a little directionally challenged and he’d helped me find the event.

ELBEE A little? She used to get us lost in the hospital. It was embarrassing.

I was leaving the parking garage, trying to find the plaza where we were supposed to be meeting. Totally lost, I saw the young man and asked him for directions. Realizing that I was clueless, he took the time to walk us over. He was so sweet about it.

We laughed as we reminisced. Then he told me that he was planning a birthday party for his dog. Seventeen of the dog’s friends were invited. I realized that not only is he genuinely nice, he was also helping out a fellow dog lover!

ELBEE In case you’re wondering how she found the picnic, she stopped at the hospital to pick up Jen, the director of the People Animal Connection, to show her how to get there. She and Carol had to call someone named Siri to get back to the hospital on their own.