Pets – Page 12 – Me and the Doods.com

Cautiously Optimistic

I’m almost embarrassed by the title of this post because it’s become such a cliché right now.

ELBEE Apparently not embarrassed enough not to use it.

We’ve all gone through so much together, from pandemic brain to pandemic fatigue to being so over it. Sharing with friends and family has been a saving grace. We have found ways to connect with each other and to comfort. Now we are looking for the way back.

On Wednesday the Doods did a Zoom call with a little girl at UCLA Medical Center. Ironically, the date marked a year since Gus or Stanley has done any in person visits.

ELBEE I would have been devastated to have had my illustrious therapy dog career put on hold.

On March 11, 2020 Gus did his recertification testing and soaked up all of the attention walking through the hospital. It was also the day that the World Health Organization declared COVID-19 an international pandemic.

Zoom calls, which were a technological nightmare for some people, have become routine and sometimes even fun.

ELBEE She used to ask her grandkids for help.

The patient we visited on the eleventh seemed a bit shy but having her mom there gave her the ease to open up.

They were both delighted with Gus and Stanley’s antics. They laughed at their dancing, applauded the tricks. told me about their dogs. We even sang an early Happy Birthday to Gus.

The only thing missing was the physical contact with the dogs. There was no hugging or petting. There were no belly rubs.

An impromptu visit that the dogs did on one of our walks really put it in perspective. I was fortunate enough to be vaccinated, so although I’ve been cautious, I have let more people approach. I also carry Purell.

ELBEE By the way, “fortunate” means “old.”

A man out with his two young sons asked if they could pet the dogs. When I gave the okay, the boys were so excited. Gus and Stanley were almost giddy and immediately began showing off. They have been very confused by social distancing.

After the dogs calmed down enough to pose for a photo, I handed the boys their UCLA trading cards. Before we went our separate ways, the dad looked me in the eye and said “you just made their day.” I realized how much I’ve missed that simple phrase that therapy dogs and their handlers so often hear in the hospital.

It made me think that Zoom visits are like television shows with a remote audience while in-person hospital visits are like live theater. There is a priceless interaction when a dog walks into a patient’s room. I am cautiously optimistic that we will find our way back.

This One’s for You Stan

On one of my Ventura Blvd walks with Gus and Stanley, we passed a store window that was filled with origami cranes. The shop had been vacant for months and then had housed a temporary exhibit for local artists. Now these ethereal paper birds were hanging on copper chains.

It was part of the Memorial Crane Project started by artist Karla Funderburk. She created the art installations for the purpose of honoring loved ones lost to COVID-19.

In the Japanese culture, the crane is a symbol of good fortune and longevity, but also of hope and healing during difficult times. These hand made birds are her way to commemorate those lives and to help us mourn and heal collectively.

ELBEE Someone has been busy on Google.

The delicate birds, as well as a wall of remembrance, are in the windows of well-trafficked locations. At first the artist was making the cranes on her own, but as word spread, more and more people joined in. Her goal is to have a memorial display in each state. Sadly, it would take years and years to make a bird for each life that has been lost.

ELBEE I’m sorry to break the mood but I love the name Funderburk.

On a more personal note of remembrance, my brother Stan’s birthday was March third. I’ve written about him often since he was one of the most special people in my life and one of the funniest.

He has been gone almost twenty five years but I still light a candle on his birthday. After being so moved by the window display, I considered changing things up and folding some paper cranes in his honor.

ELBEE Origami is not in her skill set.

Instead, on his birthday, Gus, Stanley and I did a Zoom call with the kids and the teens in the neuropsych units at UCLA. Although you never know how it’s going to go, this one turned out to be so much fun.

It was just one of those visits where the patients were engaged and having a good time. They laughed at the dogs’ outfits. They were great sports. They agreed to sing for Gus’s dance and my silly “dance” with Stanley. They applauded. Okay, I milked the applause. It felt as if my brother’s spirit was with me, as if he was smiling down.

Recently, going through some old boxes, I found a poem that a friend had written for him when he was waging his battle with cancer. I want to share the closing lines.

“Why this has happened to you many people have contemplated, But one thing is for sure, your life will always be celebrated.”

Happy birthday Stan. I celebrate you.

Sequins & Schmatas

As the pandemic has gone on and on, a lot of us have gotten very comfortable in sweats, schmata’s and minimal makeup.

CHARLEY It’s concerning.

On the other hand, our dogs look fabulous. We’ve been spending so much time together, there’s lots of brushing and pampering going on.

My cousin Janet, the one who inherited the sewing and crafting gene from my grandmother, made this personalized sweater for her “granddog” Leon. If I could knit I would have done the same thing.

ELBEE Knit? I saw her try to sew on a button. It was painful.

I’ve never hesitated to dress the Doods up for holidays or special events at the hospital. Now every Zoom call is an excuse. When we do virtual visits, it’s all about Gus and Stanley in their ties and tiaras. The patients are so taken with the sequins and feathers, I don’t think they even notice me in my sweats.

ELBEE Excuse me, those are pajamas.

It reminds me of the time I knocked on a patient’s door at Providence Tarzana Hospital and asked her if she’d like a visit. A little confused, she looked at me and answered “not really,” Then, seeing Gus at my feet, she smiled and said “please come in.”

I confess, Gus and Stanley’s wardrobe comes from the Dollar Store or from my closet. My kids were never that easy to dress. I remember a shopping trip when one of the daughters asked why there was a little “x” sticker on a shirt. When I explained that it meant there was a tiny imperfection, her response was, “you’re buying me rejects?” Neither Gus nor Stanley has ever complained about rejects.

Actually, I was feeling so good about the outfits I was putting together, I thought dog stylist might be in my future. Then the people on our UCLA PAC Zoom calls began sharing about all of the shopping they’d been doing. They’d been buying fancy doggie apparel on specialized web sights. Who knew they had onesies and bodysuits for dogs! I was afraid that I’d have to step up my game.

GUS If she buys me a onesie I’m outta here.

STANLEY I might look cute in that black bodysuit.

Gus and Stanley have very different attitudes when they pose for photos. No matter how I dress him, Stanley sits patiently and waits for his close up. Gus, on the other hand, often looks as if he’s having an existential crisis.

On a serious note, some friends are going through very difficult times. This lighter post was written for them in the spirit of love.

The Sushi Sign

According to the World Health Organization, there is a parallel pandemic of emotional and psychological issues. The difficulties, demands and downright craziness of life over the past year have caused stress, anger and anxiety to name a few.

ELBEE Someone has been listening to the news.

Everyone I’ve spoken with lately agrees. The numbers are getting better but COVID is still taking a toll. Even writing isn’t the same without our in person hospital encounters to draw from.

Walking with Gus and Stanley, I’ve seen some real “signs” of it. This one, which wouldn’t have been out of place on a ranch or in a private forest, was on a neighbor’s lawn. Hunting, fishing and trapping?

ELBEE The only fish in the area have names like Wiggles and are swimming around in bowls.

This week, on Ventura Boulevard, a busy street in the San Fernando Valley, things were not the same either. Despite the fact that there’s more traffic and some businesses are starting to reopen, I sadly noticed how many storefronts were empty.

Restaurants are offering outside dining but the general mood seems to be spilling over. As happy as people are to go out to eat, they’re tired of the safety measures like masks and social distancing.

I was kind of surprised to see this sign in front of a family friendly sushi restaurant in an upscale outdoor mall. Then I realized it had probably been posted out of a sense of frustration.

As always, when things are difficult, I turn to the dogs. It’s very calming to have them sit and listen to me without judgment.

GUS & STANLEY We’ve been working overtime. And to be totally honest, we do judge just a little.

When we’re out together, I invariably encounter more positivity. A couple walked by and told us to “enjoy this beautiful day.” A woman shared that she’d been exhausted but seeing the dogs had given her some energy.

A young man said that Stanley was the cutest dog he’d ever seen. Another called Gus an “adorable giant marshmallow.”

GUS I have mixed feelings about that. I’m kind of sensitive.

On Friday we did Zoom calls with the kids in neuropsych at UCLA. I put the dogs in their business casual ties and threw in a few accessories like hats and glasses. I had them do tricks. We played silly games like “who wore it best?” I told myself that it was to engage the patients but to be honest, it made me feel better.

This came home to me even more a short while later when we did an iPad call with a very ill young woman waiting for a transplant. The nurses said that she was depressed but loved dogs.

I was so thankful for those few minutes with her. My problems temporarily faded away as I watched the dogs bring comfort. As difficult at it was for her to speak, when she tried to share a word or two, I felt overwhelming gratitude.

Canine Cupids…Past and Present

Valentines Day is a special event at UCLA Medical Center. Traditionally, the dogs in the People Animal Connection deliver gifts and hand made cards to patients and staff. Decked out in festive attire, they bring the holiday to the hospital.

On one occasion, Gus and his valentine Lola rode around in a red wagon filled with cards. Just last February, which now seems so long ago, Gus and his buddies Tommy and Finley cheered up an adolescent girl who’d been in and out of the hospital for years. Who would ever have believed that would be one of our last visits before COVID-19 shut down their in-person cuddles.

This year, sadly, the visits had to be virtual. On the bright side, they were going to include Dodgers and robots. As a huge fan, I’ll settle for even virtual Dodgers. Wasn’t sure about the robots.

Since it was going to be on Zoom, my first concern was how do we dress to impress.

ELBEE Seriously?

Should we go with traditional valentine ensembles? Dodger blue? Robo chic?

ELBEE She googled “robot chic.”

On the big day, I settled on Dodger blue with valentine accents. Unfortunately, when I signed on, my only Dodger contact was a virtual glimpse of a player’s face as a robot in a blue and white shirt rolled by.

ELBEE I am so confused.

We spent the morning visiting patients on iPads with Paula, her dogs Windy and Georgia, plus Abbey and Gus’s valentine Lola.

GUS Lola looked fabulous.

This all sounds so crazy but it’s the norm right now. We stopped in to see a few toddlers and then a slightly older boy who understood what was going on better than I did. At least we were able to bring a little happiness to the kids, their parents and the staff.

In the afternoon we had a holiday Zoom meeting for the UCLA volunteers. As part of the presentation, Jen from PAC did a slide show of special valentine moments with the dogs, past and present.

I couldn’t help but smile as the photos, set to music, rolled by. Then I had a deeper emotional response. I wanted so badly to bring Gus and Stanley into the hospital to make the toddlers giggle. I also thought about Valentines Days with Charley and Elbee.

More important than all of the costumes and cards is the unconditional love of the dogs. Let’s hope that next year the in person presence of our canine cupids will light up the halls again.

It’s Ground Hog Day…Again

Tuesday was Ground Hog Day. Punxsutawney Phil came out and saw his shadow, signaling six more weeks of winter. I think what really happened was that he popped out, saw what was going on and decided to go back to sleep.

Let’s face it. This past year has been like the movie Ground Hog Day. We seem to be going through the same tedious motions and emotions over and over again. It takes a little more effort to break out and do something upbeat.

Wednesday, we had a Zoom call with the kids in neuropsych at UCLA which made me snap out of it. They love it when Gus and Stanley are in costume so I considered dressing them as ground hogs

ELBEE Is she serious?

Since I have no idea how to accessorize a ground hog, I thought it would probably be better to celebrate Valentines Day a little early. Coincidentally, I had seen a TV segment about how to “groom for Zoom,” and they had suggested red as a good color to wear. This was a win/win situation.

When we logged in for our visit, Stanley’s red sunglasses and feather boa caught the kids’ attention. I couldn’t help myself and was wearing a red shirt and hat for the occasion. When I switched the hat to Stanley and played who wore it better, they immediately voted for him.

ELBEE Shocker

Gus danced for the kids in his valentine neck ruffle. Stanley, who competes for screen time, immediately came over to do his version of dancing. This involves standing up and putting his paws on my shoulders. It looks so ridiculous that it makes everyone laugh.

STANLEY Hey, I love Dancing With the Stars and have picked up some moves.

When the kids laughed, even at my expense, it was music to my ears. Since they really seemed to be engaged, I asked if anyone would sing while we danced. I got a few takers. When I went so far as to see if they thought we were ready for America’s Got Talent, there were some big smiles and a few giggles followed by a smattering of applause. Maybe there’s still hope.

ELBEE She started the applause.

What touched me the most was a little boy who wanted to know if I would bring Gus and Stanley into the hospital to see him. It made me realize just how desperately we all miss that personal and canine interaction. As much as I love dressing them up for Zoom, the day that we can walk into UCLA with them wearing only their official PAC bandanas, will be a cause for celebration. The blue and gold scarves will be better than any feather boas or hats…well almost.

I’m So Over It

Since COVID-19 reared its ugly head, we have all gone through so much together. We have mourned the unimaginable loss of life. We have worried about family and friends. We have gained new respect for front line workers. We have missed things we took for granted like haircuts and hugs.

In the beginning there was a sense of disbelief. Then it all began to sink in as life as we knew it changed from month to month. Talking to other people, yes, many on Zoom which I’d never heard of before, I realized how many of us were going through the same stages.

In September, pandemic brain set in. There was some forgetfulness, with a dash of anxiety and depression. Insomnia was a given. We felt like we looked pretty good without makeup and that matching masks made our outfits. We were walking our dogs five times a day.

By December, we were feeling pandemic fatigue. There was a sense of exhaustion as the numbers climbed and the holidays were put on hold. I did laundry on new years eve.

ELBEE That is very responsible but sad.

We still have a long way to go until we reach the new normal. It’s hard to be patient and deal with the restrictions. The unbelievable is still the reality.

More and more I hear people saying, “I’m so over it.” They want to move on. I can’t disagree. Not to minimize the big picture, but the day to day changes are wearing thin. Here are some of my issues.

ELBEE Again with the issues.

I’m tired of constantly being referred to as the “elderly.”

ELBEE If the orthopedic shoe fits, wear it.

I look better in makeup. I want to wear it when I go out instead of in front of the computer.

ELBEE Amen to that.

As for masks, I have to remind myself that they’re a safety precaution and not a fashion choice. I never even liked wearing them on Halloween.

GUS & STANLEY She has that black sequined one that’s quite attractive.

I’m tired of not recognizing people in their masks and looking like a robber when I go into the bank. I wish that I could just run into the market without taking my life in my hands.

I’m also wish that I could share the Doods in person and not just on Zoom. I want to let them be social on our walks. I want to take them back into the hospital so that patients can cuddle with them.

I confess that with all of the sheltering in place, Gus, Stanley and I have become very codependent but I don’t have an issue with that.

GUS & STANLEY Sorry but we could use a little alone time.

We may be “over it” but we have to do what it takes to hang in there. If that means playing cards with your dogs, go for it.

Set design and photos by Doug Morrow

ELBEE Seriously?

Stanley Is a Rug Thief

After last week’s encounter with the terrible teen at the beach, I wanted to write something on a lighter, funnier note.

ELBEE Oh, it’s about me.

It’s actually about Stanley. He is half Golden Retriever but he doesn’t retrieve. He’s not even very interested in toys unless he can chew them up.

STANLEY Truthfully, I find fetch a little boring.

Now throw rugs, that’s a whole different story. He’s obsessed with them. It’s ironic because when he and Gus nap together, they look like a throw rug.

Stanley has a combination of Charley’s sweetness and, how shall I put it, Elbee’s goofiness.

ELBEE Excuse me. I’d call it charm.

When someone comes into the house, Stanley will eagerly greet them and then run to grab a rug from the kitchen or the bathroom. Instead of bringing it over or sneaking away with it, he will literally prance by without looking at anyone. It’s as if he wants you to see him but pretends that he doesn’t.

When my husband gets home, Stanley will wait a minute or two, pick up the large black rug by the kitchen sink and then strut right by him. After he deposits it in the living room, he comes back for another one. He usually drops that on top of the first one and then may go for a third.

Gus looks as if he’s waiting on his special rug to eat breakfast. He’s not. He’s guarding it so that Stanley won’t drag it into the yard.

Baffled, I asked a few of my dog people friends why they thought he was doing this. One figured that he was bored. Another said he was probably just looking for attention. A third one suggested that he didn’t like my decorating and was moving things around.

ELBEE So that’s why he was trying to order from Living Spaces.

Then it dawned on me. As the namesake of my brother Stanley, he’s living up to his legacy. Stan was a television director and a favorite of so many that he worked with. His optimism and good nature were a gift.

Charismatic and a total dog lover, he was one of the most special people in my life. He was also one of the funniest. He could literally make me laugh until I cried. We had so many inside jokes.

Sadly, my brother passed away from colon cancer over 20 years ago when he was just 47 but his spirit is still with me. Every time that Stanley saunters by with a throw rug in his mouth, I can hear my brother’s great big laugh.

A Rough Day at the Beach

Generally I try to keep my posts positive, especially now. More and more people are talking about how stressed they feel and how much they need a time out. Whether they’re on the front lines like my daughter Nicole working in the ICU or have kids in virtual school at home like my youngest, Danielle, people are doing their best to hang in there but it’s tough.

It’s inspiring to see how many are reaching out to help each other cope. This week, unfortunately, I had an incident with someone who definitely wasn’t. I apologize but I need to vent.

With the unseasonably warm weather, my husband and I took the dogs down to the beach. While he went to sit on the sand and watch the huge waves, I went for a walk with Gus and Stanley on a path that runs along the ocean. It felt safe because there were no bikes allowed and almost everyone we passed was wearing a mask.

As I was starting to relax and enjoy the day, a teenage boy, without a mask, came barreling toward us on his bike. I pulled the dogs close and turned my back to him. That’s when he yelled at me in language that I won’t even repeat as he sped by. He went so low as to use the “old” word.

ELBEE That’s what really got her.

I admit the “old” word was unsettling, Who yells at a grandma walking her dogs? And so much for my theory that a mask makes you look younger.

Thank goodness I had Gus and Stanley with me for support. Neither one would make a very good guard dog. Gus sprints past houses where dogs have barked at him. Still, in that situation I felt less vulnerable with them at my side. Stanley leaned against me, probably keeping me from saying something totally inappropriate in response.

I debated about sharing this but sadly that encounter is such a sign of the times. What I truly find sad is that this is not an isolated incident. There is so much divisiveness when we all really need to come together. We hear the rhetoric but when it becomes that personal, it’s disturbing.

Once we got home, Gus and Stanley went into therapy dog overdrive. They followed me around the house (even more so than usual). Gus nudged me with his paws. Stanley threw himself down next to me.

The behavior of the dogs is so instinctual and so kind. I personally benefited from it that day. I also see it whenever Gus and Stanley or their buddies in the People Animal Connection are visiting in the hospital. There are lessons we can learn from them about unconditional love and acceptance.

Photo credit to Doug Morrow

Have a Grateful Heart

Some weeks are so difficult, it makes it hard to write a feel good post. I felt like that when wildfires were blazing in California. I even drove out to see the devastation for myself. The pandemic has given me pause. This week it’s the riots and the deaths in our nation’s capital.

What keeps me going is the hope that I can give people a moment of positivity.

ELBEE Trust me she is no Polyanna but she tries.

It’s also an opportunity to reach out and stay connected to family and friends, more important than ever with all of the social distancing. Coincidentally, a friend just left a message saying that she hoped I’d keep posting during these dark times.

Two things inspired me today. The first was the sweetener Truvia.

ELBEE Not again

As I mentioned a few weeks ago, there are sayings on each of the packets. They’re very positive, like a morning boost with your coffee. This one said, “Have a grateful heart.”

The second was the throwback photo on the left that a friend recently texted. It’s “baby” Stanley being socialized at the gym in the hopes of following in his big brothers’ paw prints. It led me to find this photo of Stanley starting his first day as a therapy dog at UCLA Medical Center.

As I began looking back at older posts, I was so thankful for the photos. Here are a few of the special ones that I was given permission to share.

Charley and Elbee comforted my dear friend Tracy’s wonderful dad shortly before he passed.

Gus offered his special love to two very sick children.

Stanley cheered up a teen waiting for a heart transplant and helped a nervous student relax.

Although the situations were all difficult, the unconditional love of the dogs brightened each one. These photos brought it into focus. The therapy dog journey that I am privileged to share is an integral part of my gratitude.

I am so looking forward to the day when we are safe from COVID-19 and the dogs can go back into the hospitals. For now Zoom visits will have to do. They make it harder to get the patients involved and can be chaotic when Gus and Stanley compete for screen time but at least there’s a dog presence, even virtually.

On Zoom I put Gus and Stanley in silly outfits and have them do tricks. In the hospital all they have to do is sit on the bed or roll over for a belly rub. There is comfort in simply petting or hugging them.

I will never forget the woman at UCLA whose baby was blind. I brought Gus into the room and she gently ran the boy’s hands and feet through his hair. Then she looked at me and quietly shared that it was his very first interaction with a dog. My heart will always be grateful for that moment.