Doodles – Page 28 – Me and the Doods.com

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.

Grace, Gratitude and Chaos

It’s no secret that we don’t have a Norman Rockwell Thanksgiving at our house. With four dogs in the mix, including a large puppy, this year was no different. Yet, with the recent devastation in California, chaos and laughter were a welcome relief, even if most of the laughter was inappropriate and mine.

We were sitting at the dining room table when Samantha, my nine year old granddaughter, asked if each of us would share what we were grateful for. It started out beautifully but then it was my turn. I lost it. I’m not good when put on the spot.

ELBEE I think we can safely assume that grandma of the year is off the table.

Some people cry. A few of my closest friends (you know who you are Elaine and Elliott) and I laugh. It’s a great emotional release.

The next day, as I started writing about the things I was thankful for I was having trouble finding the words. I suddenly realized that with the enormity of recent events, I didn’t want to pay lip service to gratitude. I’d seen all of the news about the mass shootings and the wildfires but was at a comfortable distance.

At the spur of the moment, I put Stanley in the car and drove to some of the affected areas. At first I was selfishly relieved to see that a few of my favorite hiking trails were safe. Then I reached some of the hardest hit places and, whether or not it was my imagination, thought I could sense the lingering smell of smoke.

The Santa Monica mountains were blackened. I passed the remains of houses that had been leveled. I also saw how close the flames had come to homes that had been spared. As I drove on, I was completely overwhelmed by the size of the area that had been affected and by the almost incomprehensible level of destruction. It made me realize how important it is to focus on the positives and to express gratitude.

Thank you to the brave first responders and to the countless heroes who risked their lives to save others. Thank you to all of the people who set aside their differences simply to help each other. Your human kindness inspires me.

Thank you to the friends who introduced me to hiking so many years ago. The mountains are my spiritual place. They’re my refuge. I will never take them for granted. I am still in awe of the hawks and ravens soaring effortlessly on the wind drafts.

Thank you to my big hearted, funny Doods who enable me to have the joy and privilege of being a therapy dog handler. To all of the people in the hospital who’ve smiled and said, “you’ve made my day,” when smiling was the last thing they felt like doing, you’ve made our day.

Above all, thank you to my wonderful, crazy loving family. You are my joy, my strength and fodder for my blog. A special note of appreciation to Samantha for reminding me of the importance of expressing gratitude.

Help! Stanley’s a Teenager

With all of the devastation in California, I truly hope this post will provide a brief time out. Enjoy!

The other night in beginning obedience class, Stanley went rogue. One minute he was behaving so well that I wanted to take a bow and the next he was acting like a total goofball. It was as if the music he was hearing in his head switched from easy listening to heavy metal. He tried to engage with the other dogs. He let out occasional random barks and generally became disruptive.

When I asked Michelle, the trainer, what was going on, I was totally unprepared for her answer. She laughed and said, “Oh, he’s just a teenager.” Those four words struck fear in my heart. I knew I was in trouble. Memories of the daughters as teens came flooding back.

They would sometimes pretend not to know me so that I wouldn’t embarrass them in public. Same for when I had to drop them off a block from the movies so that their friends wouldn’t see me.

ELBEE In their defense, I’ve seen photos. Pack Leader was bodybuilding, had a fake tan and wore bright spandex. Enough said.

They’d steal my clothes (not the spandex), my make up and even the car. There was a random assortment of boyfriends. There were mood swings. There were decisions based on emotion rather than rational thinking. I’m also sure there was drinking. At one point a daughter said, “You should be happy that we tell you everything.” I later learned that meant about ten percent.

There was a time when they were 13, 16 and 19 and one or two of them were threatening to run away. I said absolutely not. If anyone is running away, it’s me. How was I going to handle that all over again and with a dog!

**Stanley and His Buddy** **Ryan, a Good Teenager!**

The good news is that although he has the same mood swings and questionable judgment, there are more positives with a teenage dog. For one thing, he doesn’t steal the car.

ELBEE He doesn’t even like to get in the car. The poor guy has motion sickness issues.

He doesn’t date or sneak out at night. He doesn’t hang out at the mall. He steals my clothes but fortunately not my makeup. And, although I would never encourage it, he has such amazing eyelashes that mascara would look fabulous.

Instead of threatening to run away or pretending not to know me, he likes me. He really likes me. When we go out for a walk he stays proudly by my side.

ELBEE Hello! It’s called a leash.

The vey best part of all is that Stanley’s teens will only last a few months!

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.

Stanley and the Gentle Barn

At a June PAC luncheon, I was incredibly moved by the words of guest speaker Ellie Laks, the founder of the Gentle Barn, “a sanctuary where animals heal and children learn to hope.” This week a group of us from UCLA went out to Santa Clarita to visit. The experience did not disappoint.

Rescued from deplorable conditions, a mix of animals from cows, pigs, horses, sheep and goats to turkeys and chickens live in a bucolic setting. Treated with love, kindness and caring, they have learned to trust again.

I felt as if I was seeing a reflection of the best and the worst of mankind. The animals had been mistreated by people, but Ellie and her wonderful crew have brought them hope. Their names, like Blessing and Magic, are a reminder of the positive work being done. Somehow, they also contribute to a sense of peace and spirituality.

There was another part to the day that made it even more special for me. Ellie encouraged us to bring our dogs so I had Stanley with me. I was a little nervous about bringing a puppy but felt it would be a great opportunity for socializing and training. I also truly believed he could handle it. To my delight, he was so good that he surprised not only me but everyone else.

When we first arrived, he barked at a donkey standing by a fence. In his defense, he’d never seen anything that looked even remotely like a donkey. It was the last time he barked all afternoon!

Not only was he comfortable with the other dogs in our group, he was fascinated by the barn animals. When we went into the enclosure with Forgiveness, a three thousand pound genetically altered cow, he stopped briefly as if to assess, and then moved closer. He showed more curiosity than fear.

It was the horses that really caught his fancy. He went almost nose to nose with Hiro, a horse that is totally blind. There was something so gentle in their interaction. Later, standing by the outside paddock, he tried to climb through the fence to get closer to the others. He even made friends with the donkey.

Ellie was so impressed with Stanley’s temperament and judging by the photo, he was pretty impressed with her too. She said that he was the most amazing puppy she’d ever seen and felt he’d do great work. Since she is an animal guru with such empathy for them and such intuition, I could not have asked for more.

Stanley may continue to bite Elbee’s ears, counter surf, and shred newspapers but I will hear her words in my head and believe that he has something special to offer. With luck, he will one day walk bravely into the hospital by my side.

Elbee and Gus Do Cocktails

In 2008, Charley and a Golden Retriever named Abby took part in the opening celebration for the Ronald Reagan UCLA Medical Center. Charley and Abby are gone now, but I will never forget how they charmed the crowd.

This week, Elbee and Gus worked a celebration for the tenth anniversary of the hospital! I admit that I was feeling nostalgic. As we got out of the car, we were greeted by a young woman who explained that she had met Charley at the student athlete event the night before he passed. She still had fond memories of him. The nostalgia grew even stronger.

ELBEE Don’t get me wrong. I adored my big brother, it’s just that last week was a trip down memory lane. She needs to snap out of it.

Before heading down to the main event, we all took photos outside with a very special addition to the UCLA program, Blue Moon, a miniature therapy horse. Gus kept sniffing as if trying to figure out what kind of dog it was.

ELBEE Sometimes the little guy is clueless. Besides I think she kind of had a thing for me.

I’m not sure if Elbee and Gus “charmed” the crowd, but they certainly caused a stir. It never ceases to amaze me how the dogs can change the energy in an entire room. They’re like entertainment on four paws. One guest, obviously from out of town, saw the dogs in their festive party collars and Elbee in his pigtails and laughingly said, “Welcome to L.A.”

ELBEE I have mixed feelings about the pigtails.

When therapy dogs work an event, they’re enthusiastic and rarely let on if they’re getting tired. They keep going as long as anyone wants to interact with them. Unlike some of us, they never pull a “houdini” and disappear. Oops am I giving away secrets.

When I sensed they needed a break from mingling, I let them settle in front of the bar. A few of us (I’m totally sharing the blame) thought it would be cute to put wine glasses down in front of them. Since I really never thought of them as drinkers, it was strange how natural they looked with their glasses of champagne.

ELBEE I think I’ve acquired a taste.

At home later that night, I realized just how hard they had worked. They both fell asleep on their backs and were snoring, something they rarely do.

ELBEE That’s personal. Does this woman have no boundaries!

Therapy Doods, Past, Present and Future?

UCLA is planning a People Animal Connection tribute wall so we were asked to select a few photos of each of our dogs. Looking back at pictures of Charley, then Elbee and Gus, opened a floodgate of memories. There were lighter moments like parades, Christmas caroling and photo shoots.

There were more serious moments. The little boy in pediatrics who smiled for the first time in a week. The anxious family members in the surgery waiting room who laughed as Gus did his “dance” for them. The nurse who was helped through a difficult day by a short time out with Elbee.

Then there were the spectacular moments. The sixth graders from Compton who learned about anti-bullying from the dogs. The mourners at a candlelight vigil for the murdered UCLA professor who were comforted by Charley and Gus. The disturbed child in the neuropsych unit who went from smashing her head against the wall to sitting on the floor teaching Elbee how to take a bow.

Although each therapy dog has its own unique style, they all have so much in common. Whether they’re gentle giants like Charley, class clowns like Elbee or cuddlers like Gus, they all come from a loving place. They trigger positive and often unexpected responses, expecting nothing in return. There’s no judgment. Countless times I’ve heard someone in the hospital say, “You’ve made my day,” and I know they weren’t talking about me.

ELBEE She’s got that right. Please, you didn’t think I was going to be quiet for this whole post.

Recently I saw two cartoons that so simply reinforced what I’ve been trying to say.

In 2006 when I first walked into Ronald Reagan UCLA Medical Center with Charley by my side, little did I realize where this journey would lead me or how breath taking it would be. Thanks to Elbee, yes Elbee, and Gus this journey continues. Scrolling through the photos and recalling so many cherished moments, made me realize just how much I am hoping that Stanley will someday be walking next to me, making his own magic.

Each time he greets someone new with a wagging tail, I’m sure we’re on the right path. When he sits in my lap and wants nothing more than affection, I applaud his temperament. Then he barks for attention, steals one of my shirts or jumps up on someone and I wonder if we’ll ever get there.

Seriously, I know what a long process it is, but I really do think he’s been making great strides. Speaking of strides, he is now leash walking not only better than you know who, but also than Gus.

ELBEE I didn’t see that one coming. And was that a pun?

GUS That’s it. I’m hiring a professional dog walker.