Category: Doodles

 

 

Recently a friend, oh who am I kidding about 10 friends and a few strangers, e-mailed, face booked and instagrammed me about O.D.D., obsessive dog disorder. Am I really that obvious?

As you can see from the illustration, it said to share. So why not over share with all of my fabulous fellow dog lovers

I’ve always suspected that I have undiagnosed A.D.D. or as they called it when I was a kid, “can’t you ever sit still and pay attention?” It got so bad in high school after my father died that someone (I’m not naming names) nicknamed me Flea! But O.D.D. was something new. The dogaholism that I confessed to in my first post was a real thing.

While I was reading the symptoms all I could think was, “if the shoe that the dog hasn’t chewed fits, then wear it.” I couldn’t even be offended. I was kind of the role model for O.D.D. I was also kind of proud.

Let’s consider. I definitely have more than one dog and run in to greet them before anyone else. (Apologies to my grandkids). I would step over the dogs before I would make them get up and be uncomfortable. As for dog toys, I tripped over two of them and a dog when I was getting up to go to the bathroom the other night.

ELBEE She tripped over me the other night and I’m hard to miss. It wasn’t the first time either. I probably shouldn’t have laughed but she didn’t get hurt.  All I could think of was that expression I’ve heard the kids use, “Have a nice trip. See you in the fall.”

I’ve also admitted that an ulterior motive in having therapy dogs is that it gives me an excuse to spend way more time with them and actually get credit for it.

As for the way they eat, I won’t even discuss the number of places we go for their food, vitamins and supplements. I do feel guilty that I don’t cook for them. I have a few friends that do, but they’re way more Martha Stewart than I could ever hope to be. I’m a little envious.

What they didn’t mention on the list is that we spend more time and money on grooming and pampering our dogs than we do on ourselves. I have huge baskets filled with their combs, brushes and sprays. Mine fit in one cupboard. They go to the “salon” way more often than I do too. Maybe I need to rethink this.

We O.D.D. people also  find conversations about our dogs to be endlessly fascinating. If we run into each other out walking our packs,  it’s over. We spend so much time talking about our dogs and sharing cute photos,  we should just meet at Starbucks instead of pretending that we’re exercising.

For the record, I would like to close by saying that I’m out and proud with my O.D.D.

CHARLEY Excuse me, why are people making fun of O.D.D.? I think it’s very noble and appropriate behavior. I myself suffer from a bit of O.P.D. (Obsessive People Disorder). I just don’t like to be alone and I have a question. Why is it okay for PL (as we refer to our fearless, self-appointed pack leader) to be obsessed with us but when I follow her around I’m considered a stalker. I think I’m going to tweet about it.

 

 

 

 

 

 

RILEY Allow me to introduce myself. My name is Riley. I’m a senior citizen and a well respected Golden Retriever who lives with the Doods. I’m also Charley’s uncle. I’m very fond of them, but it’s not always easy, especially with that young one Gus, who thinks he’s my personal trainer. He makes me run around and play with him which helps me stay young, but he is a mischief maker.

Take a look at this picture of me surrounded by shredded toilet paper.

Now I ask you, does that look like something a dog of my age and sophistication would do? I was framed and I think we all know who was responsible. It was a certain goofy, almost two year old Doodle who thinks he’s funny. Gus may have passed his therapy dog test and act like a little angel but chewing up paper is his department. Personally, I think it’s a ridiculous habit. I didn’t even do it when I was a puppy.

What really gets me, is the way he set it up. He knows that being almost thirteen, I tend to do a lot of napping. He waited until I was asleep, got a roll of toilet paper from the bathroom and chewed it up all around me until it looked like confetti. Then, when Ellen, our self-appointed pack leader came home, she found me in this unfortunate situation and ran for the camera. How embarrassing is that! Gus, of course, was in the other room watching television.

In case you need more proof, take a look at this photo.  

Do you see all of those orange feathers? They were supposed to be part of Charley’s Halloween costume but Gus tore it to shreds. At least he didn’t get a chance to pin it on anyone else. I admit that in the case of the feathers, I was on his side. No self-respecting canine like my nephew Charley should be decked out like a day-glo chicken.

Good news. Me and the Doods are back from holiday hiatus. I confess, I have never been a fan of the whole season. Thanksgiving I can deal with but it’s all downhill from there. It actually gives me anxiety. Well, there used to be one slight  problem with turkey day too, aside from dealing with the giblets, whatever they are. When my girls were little I decided that it was a great time to take the family portrait for the family card. As they got older, that turned out to be one of my worst ideas except that now I enjoy seeing them try to take their own family photos.

One time I was in a store in August, yes August, saw Christmas displays and started hyperventilating. I’m not exactly Scrooge, but this year I found a couple of solutions for dealing with my issues. The first was the Hallmark Channel. I watched so many happy holiday movies that I almost overdosed on Christmas spirit.

The Doods were my other salvation. Unlike some family members (you know who you are),  they enjoyed watching movies with me. We didn’t exactly share a bowl of popcorn but it was very cozy. When things got too hectic, I practiced total avoidance and took them hiking in the mountains. When I felt guilty about my bad attitude, I took them into the hospital to cheer up the patients. As a bonus, Santa was visiting in the hospital too so I got extra holiday points.

The most Christmasy thing the Doods and I did was an event at UCLA. About twenty human/canine teams from the People Animal Connection plus a bunch of really talented singers walked all around the hospital caroling. I’m one of those people, like my dear friend Lillian, who loves sing-a-longs but can barely carry a tune so this was perfect. The dogs sounded better than I did. On the other hand, Marilee, the woman who led the caroling, has a beautiful voice. I tried to stand by her and lip synch so people might think it was me.

I brought Charley and Gus this year since the little guy recently passed his national therapy dog certification. (Am I a bad person for fake singing and using every excuse possible to brag about my dogs?) They encourage us to make the dogs look festive and you know how much I love to dress them up.  I bought them each an adorable sweater, and decked them out in tinsel and jingle bells.

I must admit we had one particularly moving moment. When our human/canine choir was in the emergency room, I made eye contact with a patient lying in bed in one of the side admitting rooms. It was an older woman who was singing “Silent Night” along with the rest of us. I lifted Gus up and when she saw him and Charley she got the biggest smile on her face. It was like just the two of us singing together and she couldn’t hear me. It was a Christmas miracle.

GUS I have been quiet long enough. There’s only so much even a sweet dog like me can take. Do you really think we wanted to watch all of those movies? Although I did enjoy the one about the Golden Retriever. As my big brothers will tell you, treats and petting can be very persuasive. As for those “adorable” sweaters, Charley’s had a sad looking snowman on the back and mine said “ugly Xmas sweater.” Is that supposed to be funny? Next year I’m sending Elbee in my place!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I love dressing up my dogs. From hairdos to shirts to sunglasses, I think it’s all adorable. A good set of pigtails or a “man bun” is so cute. If I can get them in  headbands, it makes my day. One of the benefits of having therapy dogs is that I can totally justify dressing them up when they visit the hospital on holidays.

Apparently the Doods are not on the same page and have some issues with it. Once again they have barked me into submission and will be today’s guest bloggers. Much as I adore them, they are very pushy.

CHARLEY                                                                              As the senior Dood I have been forced into way more than my share of ridiculous outfits. Take Halloween for instance. Should a dog with my level of intelligence and sophistication be forced to wear a headband with orange bouncy things on it. This year she put all sorts of unnatural color in my hair in case, heaven forbid, the psychedelic wig I was wearing fell off. To add insult to injury, she put matching colors in her hair. I have worn antlers for Christmas and some sort of red and blue sparkly things for the fourth of July. I’ll be honest, I felt in my element when Elbee and I were dressed up like doctors for a UCLA photo. You know I could probably make it through medical school. I also thought I looked quite dapper in a red sequin tie I wore to a Red Cross Benefit. Overall though, I must say I’m very glad I do yoga and meditate to help me cope.

ELBEE                                                                     Charley really has had more than his share of humilitation, but you would not believe how many times I’ve had my hair in pigtails when I would prefer a nice mohawk. I recently had minor surgery on my back and that was apparently an excuse to put me in one of her black tee shirts. She got the idea from a dog friend who told her that it would keep the house from looking like a crime scene. Really?? As if that wasn’t enough, she had to take a photo of me wearing the shirt and sunglasses. What is with all the glasses? I agree with Charley, that the scrubs and a stethoscope for our doctor photo were definitely a step up. I’ll also admit that I’m a little jealous of the red bowtie. I look excellent in red. But would you look at the picture below and tell me why we had to wear candy canes on our heads to visit Santa? And by the way, why were we visiting Santa?

                                                                             

GUS I’m not even two and I’ve already had hairdos, glasses, shirts and hats. I’m a kid. Cut me some slack with the dress up. Do you see this picture? What am I a referee? From what my big brothers have told me, Ellen is going to be taking us caroling at UCLA this weekend and it involves “outfits.” Elbee was eavesdropping and heard her excitedly telling a friend that she’d gotten us Christmas sweaters for the event. I don’t know which will be more embarrassing…the sweater or the fact that I can’t sing.

If I had a dollar for every time someone has told me that I look like my dogs, I could cover their grooming bills, which are higher than mine. Speaking of grooming, you wouldn’t believe how often I’ve been accused of copying their hairstyle. For the record, I had it first.

Admit it. When you looked at the above photo you thought the same thing, except that Gus has slightly curlier hair, kind of what I looked like with bad perms in the eighties.

They’re cute so I don’t mind the comparison although they have a lot more facial hair than I do. Fortunately my daughters have been bribed to pluck out those few strays on my chin when I get too old to notice.

The first time it ever happened, my daughter Jennifer was working with a production company in a local park so I decided to drop by with Charley. As we were walking up, one of the women in the crew started laughing and said, “Oh my God, you know those people who look like their dogs!” Jennifer glanced up, and horrified, saw us approaching. Thinking quickly she said, “Look, here comes my mom…and her dog.” Despite the fact that she finds us totally embarrassing, she averted a social disaster.

A few years later, Charley and I were in the Hollywood Christmas Parade with the dog whisperer, Cesar Milan. When we went over to meet him, I could swear he almost started laughing but caught himself and commented, “That’s really something.” The fact that I was wearing a poofy, white sweater probably didn’t help. I really feel that one of the highlights of the evening, aside from walking behind Cesar’s car, was my fabulous “parade wave,” something I’d always wanted to do.

A few weeks later I happened to run into Cesar at a  restaurant. I saw him dining with his “people,” but figuring we were pals from the parade, went over to say hello. As  I was about to reintroduce myself, he said, “You’re the one who looks like her dog,” but quickly added, “I mean that in the nicest way possible.”

Even better than the parade was the movie but I will save the excitement for my next post. I mean how often does your dog get you into a DreamWorks picture? How ‘s that for a cliff hanger?          

ELBEE I couldn’t take it any more. Just to let you know, Charley told me that her parade wave was killing him. Still, I’m sure it wasn’t as embarrassing as something I overheard. At the end of a bodybuilding routine she blew kisses to the audience as she exited the stage. Please! I would also like to add that she should be a bit more enthusiastic about resembling us. At her age she’s lucky she doesn’t look like a Sharpei!

 

 

 

 

I’m a dog walker and a street walker. Before you get the wrong idea, remember I’m also a grandma. Just how much business do you think I’d get? Actually a few people have stopped their cars to ask if I was a professional and I just assumed they meant dog walker. To be honest, I was flattered because in my early days of taking the dogs out all I ever heard was, “who’s walking whom?”

It reminds me of when I first took Charley to dog class.

CHARLEY Excuse me I need to interject. She is going to share the story of how she was so proud of teaching me a perfect down stay that she nearly took a bow in class. Let me tell you how it really went. The stay is so basic I figured it out on my own. While I was lying there completely bored, the trainer pointed out that Ellen had never had another dog do longer than a ten second stay.

To get back to dog walking, there is an article in the Pet Partners (therapy dog training) manual that says go for a walk alone and then go for a walk with a dog to see who talks to you. When I was alone, all I met were a few homeless people asking for money.

With the Doods, it was a whole different story. Everyone stopped to chat. Thanks to them, I’m now on a first name basis with mail carriers, trash collectors and DWP workers. We’ve walked on so many streets that lots of people know us but no one is really sure where we come from.

We’ve made acquaintances on each of our routes, some who’ve been kind enough to invite us to stop by if we ever needed anything. It’s almost like a cocktail party, minus the drinks and hors d’oeuvres.

I will admit we’ve had some unusual encounters. For instance, there was the man in the red plaid shirt with the diamond earring who looked like a smaller version of Santa. He stopped in his tracks when the dogs and I approached and said, “that is a gorgeous picture, you and those f…ing dogs!” His words not mine.

A woman with two small children asked if we did birthday parties. I’ll admit,  I am that obnoxious person that has her dogs show off their tricks when we run into someone with kids (whether they want to see them or not) so she really wasn’t out of line. Another mom offered me a tip when my dogs performed. My own children are mortified that I do this on public streets.

As for the homeless people (okay, I’m judging), we have a totally different relationship now. They often smile or say “hi” but never ask for money. There is one particular man whom we’ve often seen at a nearby shopping center. A few weeks ago the Doods and I were walking in an area several miles away when who should we see but the same man. He looked at us in surprise and asked, “What are you doing all the way over here?”

 

 

 

 

I was going to introduce the Doods but they let me know with a lot of eye rolling, barking, pawing, and a bit of humping, that they could do a much better job. So despite my reservations, here are my three creative canines. First up is Charley, the handsome guy on the left. Wait, before he starts, I have a confession. When my daughters were little, I used to tell them that when no one was around, the dogs would talk to me. They said they didn’t believe me, actually I think they used the word “crazy,” but I know they tried to catch me. If and when they read this post, it will only confirm their suspicions.

CHARLEY As the senior dood, the largest, and the calmest, I am often referred to as a gentle giant. I am the “bark” of reason in this pack, and the one who makes Ellen, or Pack Leader, as she calls herself, look good. As a puppy, I heard stories of her failed attempts to train other dogs, so I kind of figured it out on my own. People assumed that she had something to do with it and gave her all sorts of credit. What I’ve had to deal with! Fortunately I have the patience of a saint.

A therapy dog for over eight years, I have a gift for making people feel better. I hate to brag, (you know who does enough of that) but if you bring me into a group of people, I can sense the one who needs me the most and will go and lean on them. Working at UCLA Medical Center and at Providence Hospital, I’ve performed lots of little miracles. For instance, I was visiting a neuropsych unit (how’s that for a dog with vocabulary) when I walked over to nuzzle a woman who had been catatonic for several days. Much to the surprise of the therapists, but not to me, she suddenly began to smile and pet me. It was a good day.

ELBEE I am Charley’s handsome half brother from a different mother. I was a bit shy as a puppy but have come into my own as a therapy dog. I just take a slightly different approach. Some refer to me as the class clown but I like to think of myself as the life of the party. Charley may be the obedience king but I can do more tricks. Does Charley know how to shake his head yes or no when asked a question? Does he know how to pull a handkerchief out of Pack Leader’s pocket when she sneezes? Can he say his prayers? I don’t think so.

Not to be a negative Nellie, I do have a bone to pick. My name. Elbee? Are you kidding? When I was a baby, no one in the family could agree. Their choices ranged from Fido to Beelzebub. When we got to the vet for the first time, the receptionist asked for my name to put on the chart. When told I didn’t have one she said, “well, we can’t put blank, so we’ll put little brother.” You know who jumped all over that and said, “perfect L.B.” Then she decided to spell it out, which in my opinion is ridiculous.

That reminds me. One day I overheard her talking about the sweetest Cocker Spaniel she’d had as a child. The dog’s name was Killer! What’s wrong with these people?                                                                   

GUS Finally, it’s my turn. I’m an adorable teddy bear doodle who was adopted into the pack last summer. I’m not quite a year and a half and I still chew up rolls of toilet paper but I’ve already done some visits to an adult health center with my big brothers. As for the toilet paper, I’m so over it but it seems to be expected of a puppy.

Like Elbee, I have an issue with my name. I was  originally called Cedric which I thought was pretty sophisticated and made me sound British. She decided that it was not a good therapy dog name and changed it to Gus which was much more user friendly. Personally, I think it sounds like the captain of the bowling team. For all you keglers out there (and Charley thinks he has the vocabulary) I have nothing against bowling but with these dainty paws it’s just not my sport.