Doodles – Page 10 – Me and the Doods.com

It Was a Good Week

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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.

The Power of the Dogs

ELBEE Is someone stealing movie titles again?

Wednesday was Gus’s regular morning at UCLA, although, when it comes to therapy dogs, there is no such thing as a “regular” morning, especially since COVID. With the dogs in and out of the hospital so many times, there is almost a collective sigh of relief when they walk in.

With tail wagging, Gus greeted everyone from the crew at valet parking, to families in the lobby to staff. We finally made it up to Resnick on the fourth floor.

As we went from one neuropsych unit to another, starting with the kids under twelve and ending with the adults, there was such a pervasive sense of joy and again a sense of relief.

After a long morning, we headed down to the take-out Subway in the basement of the hospital. It’s become an informal tradition to meet Jen, the manager of PAC, and Donna, human to Gus’s buddies Tommy and Finley, after the dogs make their rounds.

Without saying a word, we all understood how fulfilling, and at times how difficult, the morning had been. As our little heroes rested around us, we began sharing some of the special moments.

I mentioned a young man who was hugging Gus as he told the group how badly he wanted a dog. Awhile later, as we were leaving the floor, we saw him in the hall, carrying his bags, ready to go home.

He rushed over to tell me how much the visit from Gus had meant to him. He said he was glad that he hadn’t been discharged earlier because he would have missed it. He added that Gus had changed his whole mood. He was so earnest and sincere, it almost brought tears to my eyes.

A severely autistic, non-verbal boy focused long enough to put his hand on Gus’s back. It didn’t seem like a lot to me but the therapist said it was “major.”

Tommy and Finley had been in the PICU cheering up very sick children. Donna mentioned three in particular that had been critically ill. One was a seventeen year old boy who smiled and chatted with her while he cuddled the dogs. Only later did she find out how gravely ill he was and that he rarely smiled.

As conversation flowed, I was suddenly overwhelmed. I thought about Gus offering comfort in one area of the hospital while Tommy and Finley were comforting children on another floor. Donna and I were holding their leashes and making sure they were doing okay but they were truly showing us the quiet power of therapy dogs everywhere.

Happy Birthday Gus!

For me, the month of March is an emotional milkshake.

ELBEE Is that a thing?

It was in March of my senior year in high school that my dad passed. My brother Stan’s birthday was March third. Although he’s been gone over twenty-five years, his laughter still resonates in my life

Charley, the gentle giant, and my first therapy dog, died suddenly in March of 2017, the morning after working a student event at the Wooden Center. He lives on in countless memories.

For instance, last week, when I was walking Gus and Stanley in the neighborhood, a man stopped his car to share a story. Years ago he’d been at a UCLA football game at the Rose Bowl when Charley and I walked onto the field during half time. He’d been so surprised to see us that he’d never forgotten it.

ELBEE That was the night they directed her to stand on the ten yard line. When she asked where it was the man said “next to the nine yard line.” And hello! My birthday was March eighth and no one who ever met me has forgotten me.

On a purely positive March note, Gus turned eight on the twenty fifth. What better way to celebrate the occasion than doing what he does best…cheering people up. Along with Jen, the manager of PAC, Gus, Stanley and I paid a visit to the internal medicine residents at UCLA Olive View Medical Center.

We met on a shaded, grassy area outside of the hospital. From the moment the first few doctors approached, everyone was positive and welcoming. Residencies can be extremely stressful but you’d never have known it from watching everyone interact with the dogs.

When I announced that it was Gus’s birthday, the atmosphere became even more festive. It was a regular party. With a little encouragement, everyone sang Happy Birthday and applauded as Gus danced. They laughed when I brought out the sunglasses and tiaras.

ELBEE She’s never met an accessory she didn’t like.

Despite all of the fun, there was a serious undertone. I could see how much the visit meant. It reinforced what our therapy dogs can accomplish simply by being present and loving. Since COVID, they have had an even more important role in comforting, not only patients and their families. but hospital staff as well.

A doctor rubbing Stanley’s belly told me how much she needed the time out from the demands of her training. Several simply hugged Gus and Stanley and smiled. My favorite moment was when a doctor, with a big grin on his face said, “This is the greatest day of my whole residency.”

I Hope Something Good Happens to You Today

Walking with the dogs, I saw this sticker on a car window.

ELBEE She got the photo off of the internet so that the people wouldn’t see her skulking around their driveway taking pictures.

It really inspired me. Right now, more than ever, we need to send each other positive messages.

Coincidentally, on the neighborhood page, which at times can be not so neighborly, someone had posted a photo of sidewalk chalk art that read, “thanks for the music.” It was to show appreciation for a neighbor who had to resort to front yard rehearsals during COVID.

The sticker made me think about how fortunate I am that good things happen to me every day when I’m with the dogs. Instead of guilt by association, I get “good” by association. With Gus and Stanley back to work, I feel the same overwhelming gratitude that I have each and every time we’ve returned over the past two years.

At the adult day health center, the man who only smiles when the dogs are there, met me and Gus at the door with the sweetest grin on his face. It’s almost like our little secret. He stayed with us as we made our way through the room and never stopped smiling.

Stanley was visiting the teen neuropsych unit at UCLA when a girl who was sitting on the floor next to me very quietly shared that he reminded her of Charley, my very first therapy dog. She had been a patient several years earlier and said that she’d never forgotten him.

**Stanley & Gus in their official** **Tarzana Hospital bandanas**

At Tarzana Hospital, a nurse told she didn’t know how she’d have made it through the morning without some dog love. A woman outside a patient’s door just wanted to hug Gus. Her aunt was very ill and also had severe dementia so visiting her was extremely stressful. Gus gave her the strength to go back into the room.

Now I’m hopefully going to make something good happen to you by giving you a laugh.

ELBEE That terrible segue made me laugh.

Last week I wrote about the dogs’ quirks, including that Henry sprints across the yard after he poops.

HENRY Why is she bringing that up again?

Hearing the story, a friend told me an even better one. She had a Dachshund with a very strange habit. Every time it pooped, it would run three circles around it!

And how about this photo of Gus, who turns eight this week, playing peekaboo under Henry who is ten months today!

Does Your Dog Have Quirks?

Recently, someone asked me if my dogs had quirks. Without even having to think about it, I said, “absolutely!”

ELBEE If anyone wrote a post about her quirks, it’d go viral.

Gus, for instance, is a clothes thief. When I have the nerve to leave the house without him, he heads into the closet, grabs one of my shirts and drops it in the hallway. Generally, it’s the last one I wore.

GUS I like the smell.

ELBEE He’s over attached.

If Gus wants your attention, he’ll tap you with his paw until you pet him. It doesn’t matter if you’re awake or asleep. And speaking of sleeping, his favorite position is sprawled on his back, often with his paws up the wall.

GUS It’s very relaxing.

Stanley has a habit of grabbing his leash and jumping up and down like a kangaroo when it’s time for a walk, but it’s his fixation with area rugs that’s really unique. Often, when someone comes into the house, he’ll grab a rug from the bathroom and prance around with it. It’s as if he wants us to see him but pretends that he doesn’t.

Henry, who views Stanley as his role model, has picked up the rug behavior. It’s not unusual to see both of them carrying rugs around or playing tug. I probably should stop them but it’s so entertaining.

Stanley and Henry share another quirk. They are both fascinated by my work outs.

ELBEE Sadly, that’s why they’re so cooperative when she wants to bench press them.

They will hang around when I’m using dumbbells or doing crunches on a bench but their favorite is when I sit on the floor to use work out bands. It puts me at their level so it’s easy for them to get involved. They will stay right by my side through every rep. Sometimes Gus will even join them.

The Doods aren’t the only ones who like to be part of an exercise session. My friend Jen sent me this photo of her dog joining her for yoga.

Henry has another quirk that I’ve never seen in any of our dogs or heard of from anyone else. It’s personal and I probably shouldn’t share it, but I can’t help myself. As soon as Henry poops, he sprints across the yard to get away from it.

HENRY Someone is not familiar with the phrase “TMI.”

Spa Day

As has happened way too often over the past few years, when the news is as disturbing at it is now, I hesitate to write something that will seem frivolous. But, thanks to friends who have told me it’s just the time out they need, here I go again.

The good news is that Gus and Stanley went back to work this week. First order of business was getting them bathed. As therapy dogs, who are groomed for work, and also as total divas, they get their hair done more often than I do. The groomer is like their home away from home.

ELBEE I always thought of it as my spa, a place to relax and get pampered.

STANLEY Maybe I shouldn’t say this but Elbee used to bark so much he’d ruin my Zen.

ELBEE I was chanting.

Occasionally someone will ask, “Why don’t you bathe them yourself?” Well, I do for the first few months and then, when I can barely get them into the tub, it’s on to the professionals. Gus would still fit but do you know how long it would take me to dry his hair!

ELBEE Trust me. It would be a disaster.

I’ve been taking the Doods to Shani’s and Four Your Paws Only for so long, it feels like family. When the dogs are still puppies, I bring them over to socialize.

Actually it is a family affair. When Marsha was grooming them, her son Ryan would help get them ready for special events. He painted Gus purple and gold for a visit with the Laker girls.

Jen is now groomer to the Doods, along with an assist from her mom and her husband. She also has a special helper who is a favorite of the Doods, her darling little girl, Anne Marie.

Anne has been around the dogs for as long as I can remember. Even before she was old enough to help out, she had a special relationship with Stanley. He’d look for her as soon as we walked into the shop and she’d give him a great big smile.

At three, she and Gus have become quite the pair. With a little supervision, she takes his leash and walks him into the shop. Then she makes sure he’s okay in the tub.

GUS I think of her as my personal stylist.

Henry has been joining his brothers lately. He doesn’t go as often as they do but when I drop off the three, it’s a lot of dog. I think Henry feels a bit left out when he’s waiting his turn, so Anne Marie has stepped up to give him some love too.

Sometimes It’s the Little Moments

With the world still such a mess, I thought that sharing a few positive, personal moments might be a good way to go.

Let me begin with one that could have gone terribly wrong. I was starting up a trail with Henry when a woman on an adjacent trail yelled “Hey, clean up after your dog!” Since I’m a fanatic about cleaning up after the dogs, I was a little confused and, to be honest, offended.

ELBEE Trust me. She’s like the poop police. I was almost afraid to go.

I assured her that Henry hadn’t gone and told her that one of my pet peeves was people who didn’t clean up after their dogs. Then I showed her the four bags I had with me just in case. To my surprise, she began apologizing profusely.

ELBEE Trail rage incident averted.

When I walk on busy streets with Gus and Stanley, we take up most of the sidewalk. If someone is approaching, I will often step aside and wait for them to pass. The other morning, an older man saw us coming and moved over to give us room. When I said “thank you,” he smiled, nodded and did the prayer sign. It was just so simple and sweet.

Later, we were in a crosswalk on busy Ventura Boulevard when a man and his preteen son passed us going the other way. Suddenly, the boy waved enthusiastially and called out. “Thank you so much. I taught my dog the tricks the way you told me.”

I realized we’d met them a few weeks earlier. After interacting with Gus and Stanley, they told me that they had a pretty rambunctious puppy at home. The boy, who was working hard to train it, asked me for a few tips on getting his dog to do some tricks. How nice to hear that it had worked out.

Yesterday, I was on the phone talking to someone about getting repairs done on the house. We had spoken several times before so she knew about the dogs and their schedules but we’d never really discussed them.

As we were about to say goodbye, she said “I have to tell you something.” She admitted that she’d never thought much about what therapy dogs could do until recently. She was in the hospital and they’d brought one to her room. In her words, “I was delighted and forgot my pain.”

That brings me to one more very positive note. At UCLA and Tarzana Hospital, we are all in the process of getting ready to bring the dogs back in to visit again. In these trying times, who doesn’t need a little dog comfort and love.

Henry Has Arrived at Big Boy Status

Henry is not a small puppy but I don’t really think about his size until something calls it to my attention. In this recent photo with my friend Carol, honorary aunt to all the Doods, he looks huge!

ELBEE Hello! He’s closer to the camera, of course he looks huge. It’s called perspective.

With the long Great Pyrenees legs he inherited from his mother, he’s like the tall awkward kid who will be a star basketball player once he fills out.

ELBEE Thank goodness that unfortunate puppy acne has cleared up.

Lately when we’re walking, I hear lots of comments about his size. Two people suggested I put a saddle on him. I was chatting with a Spanish speaking man, who smiled and said “es un caballo,” which means “he’s a horse.”

ELBEE Someone is showing off her limited Español.

Friday, as I was coming down a steep trail that wraps around the side of the mountain, a man and his adult son were waiting to meet Henry. They explained that from a distance they had seen something big and white walking down with me but with the sun on him, they couldn’t quite tell what it was.

Henry’s stature and his unusual coloring draw so many people to him that my mountain social life has really expanded. A shyness that I sensed in Henry has been replaced by curiosity and a bit of attention seeking. He watches everyone and expects them to say hello and pet him. I think I sense a tiny bit of his inner diva coming out.

ELBEE I’m so proud.

GUS & STANLEY So are we.

The mountain meetings are a gift as far as his socialization is concerned. If he’s ever going to follow in his big brothers’ therapy dog paw prints, he needs to be comfortable with people of all ages, shapes and sizes. We go to class for obedience and behavioral issues, but you can’t sign up for all of our trail interactions.

A few times I’ve been surprised by people remembering him after only one meeting. Kids who have briefly played with him on the trails will call out “Hi Henry” when they see him again. After one hike, a little boy rolled down the car window and yelled “Bye Henry” as we were walking down the street. I couldn’t help but smile.

Are Henry and Gus laughing at my post?

Valentines, Nostalgia (& a Little Flexing)

This was a big sports weekend with the Olympics and the Super Bowl taking place simultaneously. Then came Valentines Day which isn’t a sporting event but is still a major occasion. I’ll explain why that combination made me think of my first bodybuilding competition way back in the eighties.

ELBEE I’m sure it had nothing to do with that flexing in the closet incident last week.

The show was Ms. Heart of California.

ELBEE Okay, I get the valentine/heart thing but I’m not buying it. It was the closet.

I came in third but still received a trophy, the first trophy of my life! I was given a second trophy that read “Most Shapeliest.” I confess the grammar bugged me so much that I had it changed to “Most Symmetrical.”

ELBEE Sadly, she’s not kidding.

My weak attempt at pandemic closet cleaning and sorting, led me to another memory. I found this photo of my late brother Stan with the poet Rod McKuen. Stan, a television director in San Francisco, met him when he made an appearance at the station.

A few mean critics have called McKuen the “King of Kitsch, but I was a huge fan of his poetry and songs, some of them perfect for Valentines Day. Stan used to tease me about it so much, I’m sure he thought it was pretty funny when he surprised me with this picture.

While I was on the nostalgia train, I began thinking about past Valentines Days at UCLA. Traditionally, the PAC dogs, in festive attire, deliver gifts and cards to the patients and staff. They bring the holiday to the hospital.

Last February, due to COVID, we were only able to do virtual visits. I was so hoping that this year would be different. Unfortunately, cases spiked and it wasn’t meant to be. The greatest Valentine present would be if next February, they are able to deliver in-person dog love along with the homemade cards.

On the bright side, I didn’t let it stop me from dressing up the dogs.

ELBEE I’m very proud of the little guy Gus. He’s come a long way since he sort of posed for this photo with me and my brother Charley years ago.