Category: Doodles

Last week I received an anniversary card in the mail. I was a little surprised since Doug and I got married in January, but when I opened it, I found it was from UCLA, celebrating my seventeen years of volunteering with the dogs. There was a lovely personal note from Carey, the head of the department.

When I walked into the hospital in November of 2006 with gentle giant Charley, my first therapy dog, I was so nervous, just trying to get through one visit at a time. Little did I know where the journey was going to take me or how profoundly it would change my life.

Charley’s half-brother Elbee, a true character, joined us a few years later. His voice still haunts my posts.

ELBEE I prefer, “enhances.”

 

Nine years ago we were fortunate enough to welcome Gus when someone had to rehome him. The family simply asked that we “give him a good life.” So far he’s had a great life. He’s the senior member of my current very copacetic pack with Stanley and Henry.

In all of this time  and with all of the dogs, virtually every visit and every event has been special. Some have been sad, some touching and some just fun. I am so glad I have this written record to help me remember.

We have visited schools, hospitals and day camps, including one for special needs kids. The dogs taught an anti-bullying group from Compton about love and kindness. At UCLA they were special guests at the opening of the new hospital and at the ten year anniversary. They have met Dodgers and Lakers. During COVID, they did Zoom calls to cheer people up.

There are certain poignant memories that stand out. At Tarzana Hospital we were asked to see a man who was dying. The only thing keeping him alive was waiting for his adult children to come say good bye. His wife seemed to breathe a sigh of relief as Charley walked into the room. The patient managed a faint smile as he fed Charley a treat.

Almost since the beginning I have taken the dogs into Resnick neuropsych at UCLA, working with patients of all ages. One day as I was about to have Stanley “say his prayers,” where he puts his paws on a chair and bows his head, a young man asked if he could say his prayers with Stanley. When I told him, “of course,” he knelt down next to him and said, “God, thank you for bringing Stanley the dog here today.”

A teenage girl in Resnick had tears in her eyes but was smiling as she held Gus. She whispered to me, “this is the first thing that’s made me want to live in a long time.

Thank you to all of my wonderful Doods, past and present. You have touched my heart with your unconditional love and kindness. You have shown me miracles.

 

 

 

 

 

Looking back over some of my Thanksgiving posts, chaos seemed to be the driving theme. Having the whole family together, including my grandson Ryder, who had an innate fear of dogs, could get very hectic. The fact that most Doodles crave attention made it even worse.

ELBEE He didn’t even like me. Can you imagine?

This year was different. Although not exactly Norman Rockwell material, it was spirited rather than chaotic. We even played games like celebrities claim they do.

As for the grandkids and the dogs, Ryder’s ten year old sister Bella really likes them. My teenage grandkids Samantha and Ryan, are kind of “whatever” because their mom, Jennifer, has persuaded them that grandma’s a bit crazy with her dogs.

The major change was Ryder. On his last visit a few months ago, he overcame his fear of the dogs. Hard to believe but huge Henry was the catalyst. My son-in-law Jay sensed Henry’s gentle nature and encouraged Ryder to give him a chance. It went so well that on the back of Henry’s UCLA trading card, his greatest accomplishment is listed as “helping Ellen’s grandson get over his fear of dogs.”

I won’t lie. When they first arrived on Wednesday and the three dogs excitedly ran to the door, Ryder forgot that he wasn’t afraid. But to my relief, within five minutes, he was smiling and petting all three.

I was amazed at how Ryder’s whole attitude had evolved. With lots of treats, he and Bella had the dogs doing basic commands and a few tricks. Having the two big ones weave through their legs had all of us laughing. When we went on a hike without the dogs, Ryder wanted to go home and see them.

This was a special holiday in another way. It was Ryder’s eighth birthday! Knowing all of my dog props, he was very excited about picking out accessories for a birthday photo.

My daughters have a running joke pretending (I think) that they aren’t sure which dog is which and how much I look like the dogs. They even brought up my very memorable cameo in the movie I Love You Man where I was called a “bowser” for just that reason. I mention it because when we took this family photo and Stanley unfortunately got cut out, Jennifer wanted to know if that was me or one of the dogs in the picture.

ELBEE That’s hysterical.

On a bittersweet note, having lost my parents before my kids were born, I feel such gratitude for my grandkids and for the laughter.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

When it comes to the Doods, Gus has the cuteness factor going for him. Stanley is like a big cuddly bear. With Henry it’s something different.

ELBEE He has a certain je ne sais quoi. Yes, I speak French.

When people see a large, tall dog like Henry, they will often shy away. Then, from a distance, they’ll ask if he’s friendly. Once I assure them he is, it’s a love fest.

Henry is always ready to go out and about with me. As soon as I reach for the car keys, he heads for the door. Actually, I like to take him because it’s so good for his socialization.

ELBEE And hers too

He seems to make people open up. This week, I took him with me when I was having my car serviced. A woman who had also dropped off her car, came over to meet Henry. Hugging him, she told me how much she wanted a dog. She had recently lost two in a divorce and confided that she missed them more than she missed her ex.

ELBEE I think that’s oversharing.

A saleswoman’s face lit up when she saw Henry. She invited us to walk around the lot with her while she checked inventory.

My next stop was to buy hiking boots at a very dog friendly store in a dog friendly outdoor mall. Not only was the girl who was helping us delighted to see him, but when we were leaving, people were calling out his name.

A few days ago, a man pulled his car over while we were out walking. With a big smile he said, “You win the award for cutest dog in the neighborhood.”

ELBEE I hope Gus and Stanley don’t hear about that.

On a more serious note, Stanley had a special encounter of his own. Out for a walk, we passed a street that was lined with news vehicles. I realized it was where a man had allegedly murdered his wife and in-laws.

Suddenly, the window of a Channel 7 news van rolled down and the driver called out to ask if it was okay to come see the dog. When I assured him it was, he and a young woman got out of the truck.

As they petted Stanley, I shared that he was a therapy dog. They agreed that’s just what they needed. As if on cue, Stanley started leaning against the man. I said that’s what he does when he senses stress. Laughing, the man said, “He’s got that right.”

That evening, I was at the gym talking to a fellow dog enthusiast about how much comfort and love the dogs provide in all sorts of circumstances. He whole heartedly agreed and put it in a way that I hadn’t thought of before. He said, “they offer a safe zone.”

 

 

Lately, a few people have asked how much I get paid for bringing the dogs into the hospital. They’re pleasantly surprised when I tell them it’s all volunteer.  There is truly no amount of money that could match the emotional rewards of watching the dogs in action. And their visits run the gamut from just fun to deeply moving. Last weekend Gus showed me both extremes.

Sunday, he was a charmer at Mattel Children’s Hospital Party on the Pier in Santa Monica. In a reserved area, guests could enjoy food, rides, entertainment and celebrity appearances.

As in years past, there was a booth for the People Animal Connection so that everyone could meet the dogs and Blue Moon, the miniature horse. I don’t know who was smiling and laughing more, the kids that came by or their parents. Gus, who has worked the event several times, seems to enjoy the people as much as they enjoy him.

He helped attract guests to the area by posing on a table like the total star that he is. He looked like a natural in the Barbie booth.

 

 

 

 

 

He also had a special reunion with the Dodger Mascot whom he’s met at other events. Despite the mascot’s huge size, Gus is so relaxed when they pose for photos. By the way, Henry met him once in the lobby of the hospital and couldn’t get away fast enough.

ELBEE I hate to nitpick but the Dodgers consider him a “performance character,” not a mascot. And did she really have to embarrass Henry again?

The day before the party, Gus shared a much quieter kind of joy. At the request of a very dear friend, I took him to visit a critically ill teenager. When we walked into her room, I could see how exhausted she was, but the sight of Gus brought happy tears to her eyes.

She smiled as soon as I placed Gus on her bed. For the next hour or so he stayed cuddled up next to her whether she was talking softly or dozing off. Several family members were with her and what struck me was how much comfort Gus was bringing to all of them too. There was such a feeling of peace and love in the room.

 

 

 

 

ELBEE Isn’t that an old movie title?

It may be hard to believe that an admitted Halloween Scrooge like myself is writing a second post about the holiday. Thanks to the dogs it turned out to be a very good one. Walking Stanley, I saw a skeleton that made me rethink my issues with skeletons.

Look closely. Long blonde hair and a glass of wine!

Gus and Henry, along with several of their PAC colleagues, brought the magic of Halloween into Mattel Children’s Hospital.

ELBEE Did she actually say the “magic” of Halloween?

Meeting in the lobby is always a bit chaotic with dogs and people greeting each other. The group photo is a challenge. Gus and Henry were very patient about being dressed as pumpkins but Gus hid his face during the picture taking.

We broke into smaller groups and went floor to floor for trick or treating. The canines in costume brought so much happiness as they paraded through the hospital.

Kids smiled as we walked by their rooms. There was joy and relief on the parents’ faces as they watched their children. Countless staff members told us how it was  just what they needed. The visits were not only a gift to the people in the hospital but also to each of us holding the leashes.

That afternoon I had a moving conversation with someone making a delivery to the house. It was a thirty two year old man, who, after meeting the Doods, shared a very special story with me.

When he was seventeen, he spent three months at Children’s Hospital. Apparently, he didn’t have much family because he had few visitors and was very lonely.

He said that when the therapy dogs came in, it completely changed the way he felt. They cheered him up and, for a time, took away the loneliness. Though it was years ago, he remembered it as clearly as if it was yesterday. He still had the dogs’ trading cards.

Listening to him was such an important reminder of what therapy dogs can do. I never for a moment take their work for granted but his story filled me with so much gratitude. It was the best Halloween treat.

 

What do footballs and maps have in common? Before I address that burning question, I have something to share with my fellow seniors.

I saw a disturbing sign this week when I was driving in a local neighborhood. The speed limit was posted at 25 mph so I assumed it was for a nearby school. I was wrong. When I looked again, I saw the smaller sign that read, “SENIOR ZONE!” It was in front of One Generation, an “adult enrichment” center.

ELBEE That’s a euphemism.

Now for the answer you’ve all been waiting for. What do football and maps have in common? I simply don’t get either one. I’m good with baseball and basketball, but football goes right over my head. My teenage grandson tried explaining it to me but he gave up.

ELBEE That is not how you hold a football.

In college, at Syracuse, I used to go to the games because everyone went to the games. I remember bright chrysanthemums with blue pipe cleaner S’s on them but I couldn’t tell you one thing that happened on the field. I even dated a player  but that didn’t help.

ELBEE  He was fourth string.

As for maps, they are just confusing. Of course with Waze and navigation in our cars, we really don’t need maps but when it comes to the brand new tower for Tarzana Hospital, it’s huge and you’re on your own.

I’ve taken a couple of tours and have had someone show me and Stanley around. I was even given a colorful, totally confusing map.

This week I went in with Gus and the map but neither one was much help.

ELBEE Is she kidding? Poor little guy.

Thank goodness there were lots of signs and lots of nice people pointing us in the right direction. It was wonderful to run into familiar faces as well as some new ones like the nursing students who were delighted to be meeting a therapy dog for the very first time.

Everyone is adjusting to the new setting. They were as happy to see me and Gus as we were to see them. Gus turned on the charm. He danced to their applause. He smiled as they gave him belly rubs. He patiently wore his Halloween accessories as he posed for selfies.

 

 

 

 

 

 

The beauty of the dogs is that no matter where they are, they bring the magic with them. New hospital or old, lost or in familiar settings, they offer comfort, love and joy. They don’t need maps!

 

It’s still several days until Halloween but decorations have been popping up all over the neighborhood. Walking the dogs, I’ve seen lots of holiday creativity, not all of it good. Some of it is just too creepy for me.

 

ELBEE She’s a Halloween Scrooge.

 

I’m more a fan of cute decorations, like smiling pumpkins and happy ghosts. I can deal with  spiders if they’re fuzzy and funny.

I have a real issue with clowns. When I was a kid, my dad, who was a Shriner, would take my brother and me backstage at the Shrine circus to meet the clowns. It was supposed to be a treat. They terrified me.

ELBEE They still do.

I can’t believe my youngest daughter Danielle has this clown, who is the stuff of nightmares, hanging from her house and my grandkids like it.

Skeletons and gravestones just don’t do it for me either. And I don’t understand all of those arms and legs sticking out of the ground.

 

 

 

 

 

Yesterday, walking with Henry, I thought I was dealing quite well with the Halloween craziness. Then I saw this foot hanging from a tree.

It got worse. Someone had put what looked like a dead body on their lawn, right next to the sidewalk. It took creepy to a whole new level.

Fortunately after seeing the “body,” Henry and I had two very positive encounters. We stopped to visit a couple who were doing some major yard work. The wife loved Henry. As he leaned gently against her, she said, “He should be a therapy dog.” When I told her that he was, she smiled and said that he was giving her just the therapy she needed.

As we headed up the street, an elderly man in a big straw hat was coming slowly down. When he saw me and Henry, he called out, “Whenever I see you walking your dogs, the world doesn’t seem as bad.”

Happy Pre-Halloween. And here’s to cute decorations and costumes.

Walking Henry, I saw this sticker on the back window of a car.  It inspired me to keep writing about random positivity.

I’ve noticed that in the midst of all the chaos in the world, people are reaching out to each other. A friend, who was cruising the aisles in Home Goods, began talking to another woman about the benefits of a particular product and then showed her the shelf where it was on sale. This led to a conversation about crafting and eventually about life. Another shopper, who happened to be observing, told them she was struck by their “affection and respect.” She thought the two strangers were old friends.

I had a similar encounter in the market.

ELBEE Trust me she was not shopping for anything to cook.

I was unsuccessfully looking for something in the freezer section when a woman next to me and I agreed that they always seem to stop carrying our favorites. Just like my friend in Home Goods, we quickly ended up in a deep, supportive conversation.

My husband had an experience that speaks even more to the kindness that people are showing each other. He was in the drive-thru line at a fast food restaurant.

ELBEE I told you she doesn’t cook.

When he went to pay, the server at the         window told him that someone in the car ahead of him had taken care of his order. He was surprised and touched by the simple act of generosity.

Whenever the dogs work, they teach me even more about kindness and positivity. With the help of “Aunt” Carol who is an extra handler for Gus, he and Stanley visited UCLA together on Wednesday.

As we walked into our regular Resnick neuropsych units the usual level of excitement was doubled. There was so much joy. From the kids under twelve to the teens to the adults to the staff, no one could resist two cute, loving Doodles. It was the best medicine.

There are always those special moments that I think about on my way home from the hospital. Wednesday was no exception. A seemingly shy boy told me how much he loved the dogs. Then he asked very quietly if I remembered him. The look on his face was so sweet when I assured him that I did.

In an adult group, a young woman was petting and brushing Gus and Stanley as we all engaged in casual conversation. Suddenly, she got very serious and earnestly shared that they were the first thing that had worked for her since she’d been in the hospital. Nothing had reached her like the dogs. With a smile, she added, “I feel so much better.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Despite all of the current negativity in the world, or maybe because of it, I have been making a more concerted effort to find the positive. It’s a way to navigate through things beyond our control. It’s not to downplay darker events but rather to find the space to breathe by appreciating even the smallest moments of kindness and consideration.

Once I started, I found more and more to appreciate. For instance, in a senior moment, I had deleted the app for the gym from my phone. The young woman working at the desk was great about helping out and didn’t laugh at me once.

ELBEE She’s paid not to.

When I thanked her for being so nice, we got into a conversation about positive energy. We agreed that it truly attracts more of the same.

Dogs bring positivity without even trying. Walking Henry in the neighborhood, I passed a local taco truck. The owner, with a big smile on his face, called out, “Hola Enrique.”

On another street, a woman sweeping the sidewalk in front of her house told me that she was doing it so that our “four-legged friends” wouldn’t get all sorts of things in their paws. It was such a simple, thoughtful thing to do.

While Gus and Stanley have been busy with their hospital visits, Henry has been doing special events. Last week, along with Labs, Bubbles and Opal, he worked Stay, Sip, Snack with PAC at UCLA. It was a chance for members of the staff to take a much needed time out with the dogs.

You could hear the joy in the room and almost feel the relief as doctors, nurses and other hospital staff, petted and hugged the dogs. I lost count of how many times I heard, “You can’t believe how much I needed this.”  No one wanted to leave.

Another positive for me was a visit with Jack Barron, my amazing mentor in all things dog therapy. He and his wife Kathy have moved to the east coast so I don’t see him often. Stanley and I stopped by to say hello on our way back from UCLA.  From the time I began my  journey with Charley in 2006, Jack has offered guidance, encouragement and support. I can never thank him enough.

ELBEE Now she’s going to take a left turn into crazy.

It may not fit the theme of this post but I wanted to share a photo that I took in the large entryway of the house where Jack was staying. Not sure if it’s technically a sculpture, but, I think you’ll agree, he is random and positively, creepy.  See how I tied that in!

It’s hard to believe that last week was my four hundredth post! A part of me thought it was time to wrap it up. Then, some very supportive friends encouraged me to keep going. I was touched when they told me that they enjoy my words with their Monday morning coffee.

ELBEE She’s like a doughnut.

Writing has allowed me to preserve so many precious memories. It’s almost overwhelming when I look back. It’s also what I need to write a book, something that others  have suggested.

My journey began in 2006 but my first post was in September of 2015. It was at the urging of Barbara Valentine, a friend, who, after a special visit from Charley and Elbee, my first two therapy dogs, convinced me to start a blog. Gus had just begun his “career.”

ELBEE She had no idea what a blog was.

Charley and Elbee are gone but their legacy lives on with Stanley, Henry and Gus, who is now the senior pack member. They all continue to amaze me.

Thanks to the Doods, I have done parades, hospital galas and sadly, even a candlelight gala for a murdered professor. I’ve met six graders from Compton in an anti-bullying group, high schoolers interested in health care professions and campers with special needs.

Without the Doods I would never have had the chance to chat with Sully Sullenberger, the hero from the miracle on the Hudson. I would not have met Clayton Kershaw and Mookie Betts from the Dodgers nor told manager Dave Roberts that I was a “grandma groupie.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

ELBEE That was just embarrassing.

On a serious note, over the years, all of the dogs have shown me miracles. How do you explain a man who awoke from a months long coma and said that all he remembered was the presence of the dogs on his bed? More than once I have heard that a patient smiled for the first time in weeks. A young woman in neuropsych hugged Gus and whispered that he was the first thing that had made her want to live in a long time.

Friday, Gus had a special moment at Tarzana Hospital. On pediatrics, a nurse asked us to visit a patient with cerebral palsy.  The boy’s reactions were hard to read but his mom’s face lit up as soon as we walked in the room.

I placed Gus on the bed where he relaxed and cuddled up next to the patient. When Gus gently placed his head on the boys chest, I saw the trace of a smile on his face. That glimpse of happiness truly speaks to the quiet power of therapy animals.