Pets – Page 21 – Me and the Doods.com

Disorder in the Pack

Since Riley, our sweet Golden, passed, there has been a competition for pack leader. He was the quiet senior, the voice of reason. Charley before him was the gentle giant. Now the job should fall to Elbee, who thankfully has matured. Unfortunately for Elbee, Stanley and Gus are giving him a run for the money.

ELBEE What am I? The “spare heir?” I understand how Prince Harry feels.

It’s obvious that Gus with his long hair, cuteness factor and celebrity encounters has become quite a diva. He doesn’t want to take a back seat to anyone.

Stanley gives new meaning to the words, “attention seeking.” If I try to pet or brush one of the other two, he will literally shove them out of the way.

There also seems to be a big emotional adjustment going on and a lot of crying, especially for Elbee. He howled in his sleep, something he hasn’t done since shortly after we lost Charley. He also whimpered and carried on for the first fifteen minutes when I had the nerve to take Stanley and Gus for a walk without him.

ELBEE Hey, I’m a sensitive guy.

On a more positive note, the husband is now taking Elbee out every morning. Losing Riley was especially hard for him because their daily walks were such a special part of his routine. Elbee is really filling a void.

ELBEE I’m enjoying the walks but whereas Pack Leader (as she calls herself) is quite a yenta, the husband doesn’t stop to talk to anyone. I miss getting the latest gossip.

To add to the drama, the four grandkids were over. The older two are very comfortable with the dogs. This photo of Ryan sitting in my office with Elbee, his favorite, and Stanley is probably the calmest moment of the day

The jury is definitely out for the three and five year olds. As I’ve shared in the past, they like Gus because he’s little and cute. Elbee is not a favorite because he’s big and barks. As for Stanley, let me put it this way, they didn’t like Charley who was very large and very calm. Stanley is very large and not very calm. Plus, he loves kids so gets even more excited when he sees them.

As I look at the Doods sitting together, I realize two things. First, losing a close friend, a family member or however dogs sense it, may be different for dogs living in a pack. There truly is a shift in dynamics plus they grieve together but may also grieve differently. Second, and this is totally my opinion as someone who is addicted to Doodles, they seem to be sensitive, and yes, needy. They do drama.

I want to overshare one more thing. Since the “daughter editor” was busy, probably still trying to help her kids get over the dog encounter, I read this post to the husband. His comment, “That’s good. You made something out of nothing.” It’s a gift.

Oversharing in the Mountains

A few days ago, I was coming down from the mountains with Stanley when a young woman who had also been hiking stopped to admire him. She commented that his hair reminded her of her cat.

STANLEY What’s a cat?

ELBEE Oy vey.

As she was petting him, she asked me his name. When I said “Stanley,” she laughed and told me that was her boyfriend’s name. She was curious as to why I’d chosen it. I explained that Stanley was my wonderful brother who had passed away years ago. I added that he was very funny and that I was sure he got a kick out of it.

That’s when the flood gates opened. Hearing about my loss while surrounded by the beauty of nature with the comfort of Stanley in her arms, this complete stranger began sharing intimate details of her life. By the way, Stanley is nowhere near ready for a structured situation. He still chases his tail and barks at leaves blowing on the ground. Apparently, though, he is very good at trail therapy.

She told me that she’d lost her mother a few years earlier. Even though loss is different for each person, I shared that my mother had died when I was young so I could understand her pain. That’s when she opened up even more.

After losing her mother she realized that she really didn’t have an addictive personality so she stopped chain smoking and drinking. She also lost over 100 pounds. Still, she was dealing with unresolved issues of anger and grief.

I don’t know if my inner grandma took over or if it was having Stanley with us, but I tried to help. I could see by the expression on her face that a few of the things I said stuck a chord with her. It became a walking therapy session. Not sure how but even the daughters came up.

When we reached a water fountain in the park leading up to the trails, Stanley needed a drink.

ELBEE I bet he did.

She began to fill up a bowl that had been on the ground but before we knew it, he jumped on top of the fountain. Maybe this had all been too much for him.

ELBEE Of course it was.There was way too much oversharing all the way around.

She thanked me as we said goodbye. Heading to my car which was parked some distance away, it struck me how random this encounter had been. If I’d been walking alone, we probably would have smiled and just said “hi.” Because of the big, beautiful, goofy puppy by my side with the name Stanley, two strangers had a few moments of raw emotional connection.

Requiem for Riley

Riley, our Golden Retriever, passed away last week. He would have turned 16 in March. Even though he had been slowing down, he was still taking his morning walks with my husband. Then suddenly his body gave out. He was unable to stand up or lie down on his own. We knew that it was time to let him go with dignity.

His passing was peaceful yet so sad. After we lost Charley, his uncle, two years ago, Riley by virtue of seniority, became the pack leader. The Doods seem a bit lost without him. I wish there was a way to explain to them where he’s gone.

As a puppy, Riley joined Cody, our other sweet Golden and Larry, my brother’s Border Collie mix whom we adopted when my brother passed away. They were each nine at the time but Riley breathed new life into them. He kept them on their paws.

Riley was many people’s favorite, including two of the daughters (I’m not naming names). He was calm and mellow, especially compared to the Doods, who let’s face it, are a lot more attention seeking.

He’d sit by your side offering companionship and comfort without constantly having to be acknowledged. When someone came in the front door, he’d wait to be petted instead of almost knocking them over to get attention first. He was actually a great compliment to the Doods.

ELBEE I loved Riley and really miss him but I’m a little hurt by the comparison. For the record, as the new pack leader, I’m trying hard to watch over Gus and Stanley.

Riley was such a part of the family for so long, he even predated the grandchildren. It’s hard to remember a time when he wasn’t with us or to believe he isn’t with us now. Today when I was feeding the other three, I kept expecting him to walk in a few minutes later as he has in the past few months.

It’s also the little unexpected things that make us miss him even more. Riley loved to hang out in the laundry room. It was like his den. The only problem was that he would often sleep against the door leading to the garage. Every time we came home we had to gently push him out of the way to get into the house. This morning, I felt a twinge of sadness when the door opened easily.

Goodbye beautiful Riley. I hope we gave you the best life possible. Thank you for the gifts that you gave to all of us. We take comfort in knowing that Charley will be waiting to welcome you when you cross the rainbow bridge.

The Year of the Doodle

In the Chinese Zodiac, this is the year of the pig. I’ve always loved pigs so was very happy to see that. As a matter of fact, I recently had the sweetest interaction with a 700 pound pig at the Gentle Barn animal sanctuary. When the daughters were little, I’d take them to the farm at Pierce College because they enjoyed seeing the pigs so much.

ELBEE I’m sure it comes as no surprise that I’ve eavesdropped on the daughters. They had about as much interest in the pigs as I do.

In my own personal Zodiac, this is the year of the Doodle. They were there for me as 2019 arrived. And it arrived with a bang!

ELBEE I hate to burst her bubble but isn’t every year the year of the Doodle?

On New Year’s eve day, my husband woke up with excruciating pain in his side. After a visit to the emergency room and extensive tests, it was determined that he had a pulmonary embolism, a blood clot in his lungs. The doctors decided to keep him in overnight for observation. The good news is that he is on medication and doing well.

While he was resting in the hospital, I went home and spent New Years eve with the Doods. Contrary to reports from the 10th anniversary party at UCLA, they are not big drinkers. There was no champagne involved but they were great company. We curled up on the bed and watched as the New Year was celebrated in 2 or 3 different time zones. We didn’t quite make it for the west coast.

ELBEE AND GUS For the record, we would not have turned down a nice glass of champagne if it had been offered. Stanley is obviously too young to drink.

On New Years day, my beautiful friend Roberta lost her battle with brain cancer. (Roberta) Although relieved that she was finally out of pain and at peace, I mourned her passing. As the Doods sat and comforted me once again, I thought about how many times they had comforted her.

With all that the dogs, even Stanley, did for me last week, I was pretty sure that this was my year of the Doodle. Then as I was looking for maybe another sign, I realized that the daughters had already come through with flying colors. For Christmas, one of them (I am not naming names) had given me a “Doodle Lover” tee shirt.

THE DOODS The shirt is fabulous. It brought tears to our eyes.

Another daughter had given me pajamas with a “Goldendoodle Mom” top.

THE DOODS I don’t think they got it quite right. It should really say, ‘Unpaid Doodle Employee.”

A happy, healthy Year of the Doods to all of you!

Roberta

On New Years day, my magnificent friend Roberta lost her battle against brain cancer. Not only was she a legend in the fields of education, law enforcement and government, she was a legendary friend. The glowing obituaries about her achievements can’t begin to capture her personal magnetism and power. She was so much more than a public figure.

Never one to brag about her own accomplishments, she made whomever she was with feel good about themselves. She changed so many people’s lives for the better. I was fortunate enough to be one of them.

She introduced me to an incredible chapter in my life. Roberta was the founder of the Los Angeles Police Academy Magnet Schools. An early advocate for strong women, she was upset that many of the girls didn’t have the upper body strength to keep up with some of the physical challenges like the obstacle course.

Knowing my background in bodybuilding and sharing my dedication to weight lifting, she brought me in to help them out. With her encouragement and support, I spent the next ten years training the most wonderful group of kids, both girls and boys. I also had the pleasure of working with several outstanding police officers.

When I was hiking with Stanley this week, two very polite teenage boys stopped to pet him. From their demeanor, it didn’t surprise me when I found out that they were part of the Police Academy Magnet at Reseda High School. As we stood there chatting, I started thinking about the countless other young people and their families whom have benefitted from Roberta’s tireless dedication.

Roberta was also the self-professed crazy dog lady. When she first got sick she found that visits from her neighbor’s dogs cheered her up. She then reasoned that if those pups helped, therapy dogs would be even better. That’s when Charley and Elbee, then Gus and even Stanley began visiting.

After lunch at the dining room table with the dogs at her feet, she would flop on the floor hugging them and laughing. Even as her illness progressed, she seemed to find comfort in their presence. They were a perfect distraction. I will cherish that time we spent together

Former Los Angeles police chief William Bratton said that Roberta was “the guardian angel of the Los Angeles law enforcement community.” I feel like she was my guardian angel too. Despite all of her many commitments, I always felt as if she was looking out for me, as if she truly cared.

I will so miss her presence in my life but I will stand in awe of her legacy. Good bye my friend. Thank you for the unimaginable gifts that you have left behind.

Takin’ It to the Streets

ELBEE Apparently Pack Leader thought it would be cute to start with a street photo of us waiting to take a bus. As if! I’d be mobbed by my fans.

Whenever the Doods get groomed, which is very often as you know, I take them for a walk around the area before I drop them off. Recently it struck me how many encounters we have in those few blocks and how many people we’ve come to know. I also realized that if I was walking alone, I probably wouldn’t have spoken to anyone.

For instance, there’s the parking lot attendant who works at a nearby office building. He always pops out of his booth to give us a warm greeting. Then he takes a moment to pet the dogs. Now they won’t walk by until he visits with them.

Then there’s Harvey. He’s an elderly veteran who sets up a small table outside of a shopping center to collect funds for other veterans. In the many times that we’ve chatted, he has never asked for money. He is simply kind and friendly. He’s the grandpa we all wish we had. He loves the dogs, especially his new buddy Stanley.

Perhaps our most unusual encounter was with a woman who has set up a small encampment on the sidewalk by a 7-Eleven strip mall. Unlike many of the homeless who keep to themselves, she always greets me and the dogs.

One late afternoon, I was walking the Doods down a busy street, miles from where I’d always seen her. I was a little concerned because it was getting dark earlier than I had expected. Of course I was in a bright white sweater with two white dogs so we were hard to miss.

Suddenly, I saw a woman crossing the busy street. Wearing dark clothing, pushing a cart, and carrying several bags, she was moving very slowly. I was afraid that cars might not see her. To my surprise, when she reached us, she said, “I know you,” followed by “Puppy Power!” It was the woman from 7-Eleven who recognized me because of the dogs.

To my surprise, okay I was totally judging, she then asked if Elbee was a Great Pyrenees. It made me think about her and Harvey and some of the other “regulars” on our route. We don’t really know each other but our interactions are always positive. Maybe, just like in the hospital, for a brief moment, the Doods make their day. If they can do that for relative strangers, especially in this holiday season, I am grateful for the gifts they give.

Don’t Poodle My Doodle!

You might say that I have a Doodle obsession but even I know they’re fancy mutts and not a recognized breed. From Goldendoodles, to Labradoodles to Schnoodles, they have become increasingly popular. This morning was a perfect example. Elbee and Gus joined some of their colleagues for Christmas caroling at UCLA. Out of around 20 dogs, almost half were Doodles of some sort.

ELBEE Hold the phone. Fancy yes. Mutt, really?

Aside from being a combination, they come in so many sizes, shapes and colors it would be almost impossible to judge a standard of the breed like they do at dog shows. Speaking of dog shows, yes, I’ve been known to watch them occasionally.

ELBEE Occasionally? She’s a fanatic! She and her friend Dennis text so much when there’s a show on television that it’s like they’re doing color commentary.

Okay, dog shows are my guilty pleasure. On Thanksgiving, I was watching the National Dog Show when I saw the most incredible thing I’ve ever seen. It wasn’t a new breed. It was a new breed of judge! Generally they’re a little older.

ELBEE Her peeps.

They also tend to be quite reserved and conservative. Imagine my shock when out walked a judge who looked like the singer Pink. She was wearing a red jumpsuit and had a leopard print tattoo down her exposed arm. She was fabulous.

ELBEE She couldn’t text Dennis fast enough.

But I digress. I was talking to Marsha, groomer to the Doods, about their popularity. She said that people have recently come into the shop asking if she knows how to do a specific “breed cut” for a Doodle. In other words, they don’t want her to Poodle their Doodle.

For the record I don’t have her Poodle my Doodles but it has nothing to do with breed. I love their hair longer and a little shaggy. So do the patients in the hospital, especially the kids.

THE DOODS Just a coincidence that it looks like hers.

It’s no secret, however, that I diva my Doodles. I have more combs, brushes and hair products for them than I do for myself. They are so used to attention in the hospital and on our walks, that they seem to take it personally if someone doesn’t compliment them or, heaven forbid, ignores them.

This week at the adult day health center, their “divadom” reached new heights. The sun was shining when we went in, but it was raining when it was time for us to leave. Not wanting the dogs to get wet, three of the wonderful women on staff became their personal umbrella holders!

ELBEE Dreams do come true!

Stanley, at six months, is well on his way. Of all the places I’ve taken him to socialize, the hair salon seems to be his favorite. He thrives on the attention and the atmosphere of preening and pampering.

Charley posed for this photo as part of a special event at UCLA. Stanley posed for this photo just because he could.

Jack and Shane, Hope and Healing

After one of the most devastating weeks in Southern California history, I felt almost frivolous writing a post. Countless people are reeling in the aftermath of the incomprehensible mass shooting. Thousands of others are dealing with the destruction from the massive wild fires. Even though I am miles away from the flames, the air is getting smokier and smokier as I sit here to write.

I decided to share a story of triumph over adversity. I hope that it will provide a note of inspiration in these difficult days.

My dear friend Jack Barron lives and breathes animal therapy. I don’t think he’s ever met a dog that he didn’t like or couldn’t win over. I first met him many years ago when he was teaching a Pet Partners work shop. Then, when I started bringing Charley to UCLA, he became the greatest mentor that anyone could ask for, providing insight, encouragement and support.

Jack now lives up in Oregon with his wife Kathy and two beautiful Labrador Retrievers, Shane and Annie. Shane has been a hard working therapy dog since 2010 and his half sister Annie since 2014.

In September, after a few months of unexplained symptoms, a biopsy revealed that Shane had nasal cancer. Jack didn’t throw in the towel. Instead he began fighting. There’s no one a dog could want in his corner more than Jack.

After several days at Washington State University, Jack and Shane left for the highly recommended Flint Animal Cancer Center at Colorado State University. Following another series of tests, including his 3rd CT scan, it was determined that the only chance for Shane was surgery to remove the tumor and all of his nose. Although Jack said, “It was difficult to look at images of other dogs that had undergone this type of surgery,” he knew that it had to be done.

On October 8th, Shane had what was believed to be a successful surgery. Still, his recovery was a difficult journey, involving further operations and hospital stays. Now he is back home in Bend recuperating in the comfort of family.

What makes this story so positive, aside from Shane recovering, is what Jack plans to do when Shane returns to work. He feels that with his facial deformity, Shane can be an inspiration to people who are dealing with similar problems. Dogs don’t judge themselves or others. For Shane, the loss of his nose is a non-issue. He just wants to love and be loved. That’s a very strong message to share.

From the Pretty Silly to the Profound

This week the Doods and about twenty of their costumed “co-workers” brought Halloween to the kids at UCLA Mattel Children’s Hospital. Dressed as everything from superheroes to ballerinas to cowboys, the dogs cheered up so many young patients and their parents. Even the staff got into the festive mood.

ELBEE I would have made a great Superman so why was I wearing those bouncy things on my head. And Gus was a pumpkin! Really? A pumpkin?

By the way, awhile ago Gus was thinking of renting an apartment with Tommy, his Bichon buddy, to get away from Stanley. Well I’m also thinking of relocating. Tommy’s person Donna dressed like a shepherd and let Tommy and his new sister Finley be her sheep, ergo no silly costumes. I wonder if she has an extra room.

GUS I think I’m going with him. Finley is little and cute and it seems like she kind of likes me. Plus, I don’t know if it’s my imagination but Stanley seems to be getting bigger every day. I’m concerned.

The Halloween excitement was actually a welcome change of pace from some very challenging visits that Gus and Elbee had done only a few days before. At UCLA, a palliative care specialist had tracked us down for an elderly woman who was desperately requesting a dog visit. She was in extreme pain but when Gus put his paws on the side of her bed, it seemed to bring her immediate comfort.

At Providence Tarzana Hospital, a rabbi asked us to stop in to see a young woman who was battling cancer. She was having an emotionally rough morning. Clearing it with the doctor, I brought the dogs in to see her. As Gus cuddled on the bed with her and Elbee stood by her side for petting, she was relaxed and chatting. The woman’s mother was visiting at the time and her relief was almost palpable.

That same morning, one of Tarzana’s palliative care specialists asked if we’d stop in to see the family of a man who was dying. They didn’t think he’d make it through the day. As we got to the door of the room, we were greeted so warmly and appreciatively by a man and a woman whom I believed to be the patient’s son and his wife.

For the next few minutes, we quietly talked as they interacted with the dogs. There was a sense of calm and connection. When it was time for us to leave, we all hugged goodbye. It was such a natural reaction that it was hard to believe only a short time before we had been total strangers.

Stanley and the Mountains

The mountains are my happy place. It’s where I can really breathe and put things in perspective. What makes hiking even better for me is going with the dogs. I started a long time ago with Larry, my brother Stanley’s Border Collie mix, and my Golden Cody. Then I spent wonderful hours of freedom exploring unknown trails with Charley.

Over the past few years, Elbee and Gus have been my faithful companions. But now, since the hills are getting a little steep for Elbee and everything sticks to Gus like velcro, I decided it was time to take Stanley.

ELBEE Excuse me. What is it lately with Stanley this and Stanley that? What am I, chopped liver. By the way, I’ve never understood that expression. I enjoy chopped liver, especially with a nice piece of rye bread.

As we started up our first trail together, other than an inordinate amount of sniffing, Stanley was doing really well. He trotted along by my side, fascinated, maybe a little too fascinated, by the lizards and birds. Fortunately, the snakes were sleeping.

To my surprise, the brush sunflower was blooming so of course I had to take his first mountain flower photo. I always took pictures of Charley and Elbee with them.

ELBEE Yes, but we had them all over our heads. Why couldn’t we just stand next to them and look cute like Stanley?

Since it was a weekend, we ran into so many of the regulars. It was like a meet and greet for Stanley. He continued sniffing everything and everyone, including every dog that went by, but his tail never stopped wagging. To my delight everyone responded so positively to him, except for the bike riders who went flying by.

ELBEE She obviously has issues with them.

Actually one really nice couple on bikes made my day. They could see that he was a puppy and wanted to know how long I’d had him. When I answered “just a few months,” they were amazed that he was so well behaved!

ELBEE I’m sure she had tears in her eyes.

To be honest, I’m still mystified by some of his good behavior. I guess it’s like with the daughters. If you don’t want to get the blame for the bad, you can’t take all the credit for the good. There’s a flaw in there somewhere.

As we were heading down, another hiker was walking by and called out, “Cute puppy. What’s his name?” When I answered, “Stanley,” he said “That’s a character name.” I have absolutely no idea what he meant, but I loved it. I’m sure my brother was watching and got a good laugh. He truly was a character.