Pet Partners – Me and the Doods.com

Good Morning Gus

**Bringing comfort to Tarzana Hospital**

Gus is truly a people pleaser, particularly when he goes into the hospital. Recently he had a morning that was special even for him. He was making his usual “rounds” with the patients in Resnick Neuropsych at UCLA.

While in our first unit, the kids under twelve, he had a very unexpected challenge. An adorable little boy, of around eight or nine, at first smiled when he saw Gus. Then suddenly, due to Tourette’s syndrome, a difficult neuromuscular disorder, he began yelling and making extremely erratic movements. He calmed down between outbursts.

Gus took it all in stride. He sat very still, tilting his head from side to side as he intently watched the boy. It was almost as if he understood.

Our next stop was the teen unit. One of the boys got so excited when Gus walked in, he almost applauded. On my prior visit with Stanley, the boy had told me that Gus was a star and he couldn’t wait to meet him. Apparently Gus’s reputation had preceded him. He has fans.

ELBEE I can relate.

Hugging Gus, with a huge grin on his face, the teen said he was going home that day. He was just so happy that he hadn’t left before he’d had the chance to meet Gus in person.

My little star had more positive interactions with the young adults. As he sprawled on the floor for belly rubs, he kept his front paw draped over a woman’s leg. She looked over at me in wonder and said, “I think he really likes me.”

Another woman seemed very reserved, but chatted quietly, sharing about her dog, as she sat next to me on the floor petting Gus. It was only as we were leaving the unit that I learned from the therapist that the woman barely leaves her room and never talks to anyone. I am always so grateful when they let me know the impact the dogs are having.

Later in the week, Jen, the director of PAC, said she had a present for me. It was from another one of the boys in the teen unit. He’d told her it was extremely important to him that I receive it. When I opened the envelope and saw this whimsical drawing of Gus, the emotion behind it brought tears to my eyes.

Everything’s Coming Up Roses

Usually when I write about a birthday, it’s for one of the Doods.

ELBEE Or for herself

This time it’s for my husband Doug. He’s not a big fan of birthdays but the people he works with love to celebrate. Although it’s the Tarzana Wound Care Center, I truly think of it as simply a care center. Everyone on the staff is so warm and welcoming.

They all love it when any of the dogs visit so I decided to bring Stanley to the party. They were extremely helpful when I was training him for his Pet Partners testing. Now that he’s been volunteering in the hospital for a few years, it feels like a full circle moment whenever we come in.

Stanley didn’t disappoint. There was so much joy when he arrived, it was as if he was the guest of honor. The birthday accessories didn’t hurt either. Even Doug wore a “celebrate” headband.

Gus and Henry are also favorites. Recently, when the center was short staffed for a day, I came in to help out with assistant Gus in the morning and assistant Henry in the afternoon. Let’s just say that the dogs were more helpful than I was.

ELBEE Amen to that.

There were a lot of pleasantly surprised patients that day. One woman was visibly distressed when she walked in. As soon as I brought Gus into the waiting room, I could see her body language relax.

As for the roses in the title, anyone who knows my husband well, knows how much he loves roses. He grew them for years. A few weeks before his birthday, rose bushes started appearing all over the area outside of his window at the wound center. We were convinced that someone was planting them as a very special, birthday surprise.

Turns out it was just a happy coincidence. The building manager thought it would be a nice touch.

ELBEE Get ready. Here comes the Debbie Downer part of her post.

A few nights ago, someone dug up two of the rose bushes and stole them. Speaking with a man who works security in the neighborhood, I found out that’s a “thing” now. The next morning, a little old lady, not me, with a pair of clippers was caught taking enough roses for a huge bouquet.

ELBEE So guard your rose bushes.

On a more positive note, thank you so much to the entire staff at the center. You touch me with your kindness. And a very happy birthday to my husband Doug. You are an amazing human being who has dedicated your life to helping others. The Doods and I love you.

A Fabulous Friday

On Friday, the day after Gus visited the Motion Picture Television Fund, he did his regular rounds at Tarzana Hospital.

STANLEY I don’t usually butt in but is she forgetting me? I worked wonders at UCLA.

ELBEE I feel his pain.

As soon as the security guards greeted him at the entrance, Gus was ready to go. There were fewer kids in isolation on pediatrics so he was able to do several individual room visits. The smiles and giggles were a pure gift.

Then we went floor to floor offering stress relief for the appreciative staff, many of whom we’ve known for years. I’ll never get tired of hearing, “This made my day.”

It was after we left the hospital that the fun began. Our first stop was Starbucks. Someone was genius enough to open one in the lobby of the medical building next to the hospital. How convenient that I can walk through there to reach my car.

At first I was hesitant to bring the dogs in, but seeing all of our hospital ID, they couldn’t have been nicer. Now they know Stanley and Gus by name. By the way, their mocha Frappuccino is the perfect pick me up after a busy morning of visits.

ELBEE I used to love their Puppuccinos.

While I was waiting for my order, a woman, seeing Gus, came over to say she’d met me and my dogs before. A few year earlier, she’d been a patient at Tarzana and I’d brought one or two in to see her. She was so sincere and appreciative as she shared how much it meant to her, we were both almost in tears.

Our last stop of the morning was at a pharmacy in a medical building on the other side of the parking lot. The two incredible women who run it are always happy to see the dogs.

As we were leaving, two men in scrubs, whom I later found out were doctors in the building, came running over to see Gus. They were huge dog lovers. One even had a tattoo on his arm of a beloved Schnauzer that had passed away. They were also very entertaining!

One of them sat down on a bench so that he could hold Gus in his lap. Then, not sure if it was his idea or mine, he ended up in Gus’s hat and Harry Potter glasses, a great compliment to Gus in his pink shades. It was the perfect ending to a fabulous morning.

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.

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**

Caring for the Caregivers

Recently, Gus and a few of his co-workers from the People Animal Connection brought so much fun to a palliative care seminar.

ELBEE I believe that’s an oxymoron.

UCLA was having its annual symposium. Since palliative care is a difficult specialty, aimed at optimizing the quality of life for people with serious, complex illnesses, they reached out to have the dogs there. It couldn’t have gone better.

I knew that Georgia and Bubbles, two big Labs, were going, so decided that little fluff ball Gus would be perfect to add to the mix.

GUS I won because of my hair?

STANLEY I won’t pretend that I wasn’t hurt.

The attendees were absolutely delighted. When they walked out of the auditorium and saw the dogs, serious faces suddenly lit up. Two women admitted that they’d been in a lecture when they’d heard a bark and came running out for a break.

Whether the dogs were rolling over for belly rubs, doing a few simple tricks or just leaning in to be petted, they brightened the mood. People laughed when we put Bubbles and Gus in accessories, and immediately began taking selfies with them.

There was so much laughter and joy in the large basement of the hospital, it was easy to forget why we were all there. What brought it into focus was talking to a few people who had tables set up representing hospice companies. I had a quiet conversation with a woman who was asking how she could get the dogs involved with patients in the final months of life.

I was also reminded of a palliative care physician who was one of the most caring people that I have ever known. Manny Kaddour worked at Tarzana Hospital. Despite the difficult nature of his practice, he had such enthusiasm for life. He greeted everyone with a smile.

Manny, Charley, my first therapy dog, and Gus had a mutual admiration society. No matter what he was dealing with, he would always take a moment to hug them and tell them how much he loved them. As someone who cared for critically ill patients, often near the end of life, he truly understood and respected the unconditional love and support that the dogs offered.

Sadly, Manny passed away in March of 2018 at the age of forty-nine. I will never forgot him nor the lessons he taught me about kindness and compassion.

Lead with Kindness

The Doods are truly back in action. After the stress and uncertainly of the past year and a half, it’s so gratifying to see them doing what they do best.

On Wednesday, Stanley and I visited our regular neuropsych units at UCLA. The teens, who can be tough to reach, were amazing. One of the boys, who’s very familiar with the props and pictures I’ve been using since Zoom, offered to help. He asked the other kids to name the dogs’ favorite game and even held up this photo.

When we were leaving the floor, two of the therapists, whom I’ve known for years, really wanted me to understand how deeply moved they were to have the dogs back. With tears in their eyes above their masks, they shared that some of the positive behavior that I see so routinely, only happens when the dogs are there.

For the first time in over a year and a half, I took Gus into Tarzana Hospital. Although we did see a patient or two, we were there for the staff. From the security guards to the administration to the medical personnel, we were surrounded by happiness.

As we moved from one nurses’ station to another, with Gus cuddling and performing, I heard the phrase that has become so familiar. “Thank goodness you’re back.”

ELBEE We’ll let her think they were talking about her.

On Saturday, Stanley and his PAC buddy Herman worked a job fair at UCLA, something that would have been impossible only a few months ago. It reminded me of how much joy they can bring to any event.

People came by to chat, to take photos (several selfies), to share their own dog stories. The job market is a serious issue, but the event was festive and Stanley and Herman made it even more fun.

ELBEE I saw Stanley handing out his resumé.

Driving past an elementary school in my neighborhood this morning, I noticed this marquis:

**Character Trait of the month: KINDNESS**

It made me think how the dogs bring out the best in people by leading from a place of kindness. Now, in these still difficult times, we truly need to do the same.

A simple encounter at the market brought that home even more. I was pushing my cart out the door when a man who was entering moved over to give me room to pass. I said “thank you.” He looked at me, smiled and said “thank you!”

Happy Halloween Henry

ELBEE Hey, who doesn’t love a little alliteration.

This week, several of the PAC teams took part in the UCLA Medical Center Halloween festivities. The Doods have done this as far back as Charley and Elbee.

Last year, with COVID, the PAC dogs did a virtual celebration with several teams on Zoom. It was fun sharing the screen and interacting, but there’s nothing like actual contact.

This year was so special because we were back in person. It was time to bring out the pumpkin costumes!

ELBEE I thought those looked familiar.

When I decided that I was going to wear one of their multi-colored wigs, I had an issue. Does one put it on at home and drive all the way to UCLA or does one put it on right before walking in. I asked one of my daughters her opinion and she suggested that one not wear it at all.

ELBEE I’m with her.

I also had a wig for Stanley but since he wasn’t in the mood, “Aunt” Carol, who always helps at Halloween, had the pleasure of wearing it. We both looked fabulous.

From the moment we met in the lobby with our dogs dressed as lions, pumpkins and even a hot dog, there was so much laughter. As we posed for a group photo, people walking by forgot their problems and stopped to capture the moment on their phones.

When we went up to the floors, the response was even better. I had almost forgotten how special it is to see a child’s face light up when a dog walks into their room or to feel the relief of their families. One very sick young man had only a slight response but his dad was almost in tears.

The hospital staff has been incredibly happy about the dogs returning. Our Halloween visit was no exception. I lost count of how many nurses, in quiet asides, told me what a physical and emotional toll the past year has taken. The dogs were the best medicine.

In my usual spirit of honesty, I have something to get off my chest. It’s about my singing.

ELBEE Singing? That noise she makes is not singing and it has nothing to do with this post.

When a friend sent me photos of myself in the mask and wig, I realized that I was unrecognizable, just like the contestants on The Masked Singer, one of my guilty pleasures. I could have burst into song and no one would have known it was me! Maybe there’s still hope.

And Happy First Halloween Henry!

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!