Category: working dogs

“De-stressing” with Stanley

Stanley and Logan, Stress Busters Extraordinaire

This week, Stanley and some of his canine colleagues from the People Animal Connection, visited Powell Library at UCLA to help the students deal with the stress of final exams. Gus is a pro at it but this was Stanley’s first time.

When he works an event that is new for him, I never know exactly what to expect. To my surprise, he was on such good behavior, it was hard to believe that he was the same dog who had caused all the chaos on Thanksgiving. He charmed everyone, students and faculty alike.

ELBEE The kid was good. I was very proud.

STANLEY As for Thanksgiving, I’m innocent. It was the grandson’s fault.

His love of attention, which can make him seem a little pushy, especially if he’s competing with Gus, was a complete asset in the library. When we first walked in, he showed some interest in the other dogs, but once the kids gathered around him, it was all over. He had a captive audience.

 

 

 

 

 

 

I could almost see it in his eyes as he figured it out. He cuddled. He happily accepted hugs. He put his head on available laps. He did his tricks like a pro. When he sprawled out for a belly rub it brought out the inevitable laughter. So many times I heard, as I often do, “He’s so funny.” Since that’s not your average dog compliment, it made me wonder, had he inherited it from his namesake?

 

 

 

 

 

 

My late brother Stan, a television director for many years at KTVU in San Francisco, had a gift for getting people to relax. When a celebrity would arrive at the studio either stressed out or stressing everyone else out, Stan had a trick for turning the situation around.

An expert at tv and movie trivia, he’d remember one of the very first shows they’d ever done, and would probably much rather forget, and tell them how much he’d enjoyed it. His demeanor was so lovable and friendly that they’d inevitably end up laughing.

He did magic as a hobby but his humor and the way he put people at ease was magic unto itself. How special if that magic lives on in Stanley. I couldn’t ask for  a more beautiful gift of the season. Thank you Stanleys past and present.

 

 

 

Gus Is a Party

Gus loves a party and the Mattel Children’s Hospital Party on the Pier in Santa Monica was no exception. From the moment he got out of the car, he pranced through the parking lot as if he was the guest of honor.

 

 

 

 

 

 

UCLA People Animal Connection had an area on the pier where people could stop by to meet the dogs. Charley’s photo in the top row of our poster was a bittersweet reminder of past parties.

A few of us decided to mingle and headed down to the main area of the event which was like walking into chaos. There were rides, games, live music, photo booths and a huge dining tent where the food was catered by Wolfgang Puck! Not  that I don’t love a good taco stand, but Wolfgang Puck!

ELBEE Suddenly she’s a foodie. Who knew?

 

Passing the popular Barbie celebrity booth, I was very excited when the photographer suggested that Gus join the celebrities for a picture.

ELBEE She had to ask her granddaughter who they were.

Gus had an up close and personal with the Dodger mascot, who, I later learned, is not really a mascot. Gus is a Dodger fan by proxy and has taken photos with the great big cartoon character at Pups in the Park, but has never looked him in the eye.

ELBEE And probably never will again if he can help it.

In the midst of all the activity, as so often happens, we had some special encounters. A woman approached with her teenage daughter, who had cerebral palsy. The girl loves animals and responded so well to Gus that the mom and I fell into an earnest conversation about how a dog might be really beneficial for her.

A woman at a table in the large food tent waved us over. Her teenage son, who was sitting next to her in a wheel chair, was severely challenged. Incredibly positive and upbeat, she said that he had been in and out of UCLA several times and loved the PAC visits.

I lifted Gus up so that she could put her son’s hand on him. I couldn’t see any response but his mom assured me that he was enjoying the interaction. After a few minutes as I moved to put Gus down, to my shock, the boy’s hand, slightly but surely, reached out for him.

At the mom’s request, I picked Gus up again and put him closer to her son’s face.  As Gus gently kissed his cheek, I saw the slightest trace of a smile. In an afternoon of celebration, the movement of his hand and the joy on his face were what I celebrated the most.

 

 

 

This Is How We Roll

Last Wednesday was the worst of mornings and the best of mornings. California was still reeling from the devastating wild fires. Although we were not in one of the areas that was directly threatened, we had received a 4 a.m. call about evacuations.

With so many roads, canyons and off ramps closed, the traffic was a snarled mess. My drive to UCLA with Gus and Stanley, which takes about an hour with L.A.’s usual terrible traffic, took close to three. A few times I was ready to give up but friends from the hospital called to cheer me on.

When we finally arrived, things did not go quite as smoothly as planned. It was Stanley’s first Halloween event with other dogs plus his first time working with Gus. Since he’s more of a soloist (he even tried a few high pitched barks) who likes the spotlight, it took awhile for him to process what was happening.

ELBEE  He didn’t realize he was going to have back up singers. I had the same issue.

Fortunately, after a few minutes, we collected ourselves and things took a turn for the best. “Aunt” Carol showed up  to help out with Gus and we all went to visit a teenage patient.

 

 

 

 

 

 

ELBEE May I point out that Carol is wearing a fabulous unicorn costume while someone else’s costume consists of a t-shirt with a pumpkin on the front.

As you can see, the boy’s face lit up when we placed the dogs on his bed. I feel so grateful when I have permission to share a photo like this. There’s no way that my words can do justice to the quiet magic that happens. The patient’s expression and his demeanor say it all.

ELBEE I believe what she’s going for is that a picture is worth a thousand words.

After a few more stops, we headed downstairs. It was such a festive scene. Several dogs in Halloween costumes were at a pet visit station outside the glass hospital doors. Not wanting Stanley to think it was playtime, we sat down on a bench in the lobby. It turned out to be the perfect spot.

Patients, families, staff, who wasn’t going to take a break in the day to pet two shaggy dogs dressed as pumpkins? Gus and Stanley did a few tricks to entertain, but mostly they just sat and soaked up all of the attention. Gus also had a sweet moment with his friend Kennedy.

Then suddenly, as if taking a cue from each other, they both flopped down on the floor and rolled over for belly rubs. What had begun as a difficult morning, ended in laughter.

 

 

 

 

With a Little Help from a Friend

I was in a quandary this week.

ELBEE A quandary? She must be taking one of those vocabulary for seniors classes.

Thanks to my dear friend Lillian, realtor by day and now agent for me and the Doods at night, we were going to be filmed at the hospital for a show that will air early next year on Animal Planet.

Lillian, by her own admission, is not a crazy dog lover, but she loves and supports the work that the dogs do. When she found out that her friend Salvy was co-producer of a program called Dog Masters, which features dogs with behavioral issues as well as a segment on working dogs, she immediately hooked us up.

ELBEE It was like a dating app for dog people.

Should I bring Gus who was experienced and would do a perfect job or should I bring Stanley, who at seventeen months, could go either way? That was my dilemma. After an informal poll, Stanley won by a slight margin.

On filming day we arrived at UCLA Medical Center and were greeted by Salvy, the hosts of the show Alex and Laura, as well as the crew. Stanley, sensing that the attention was focused on him, was in his element. He did drama for Alex. He kissed up to the camera man.

 

 

 

 

 

 

When I did an interview with the director, he stayed right by my side.

Doing room visits on the floors, I was so focused on Stanley that I almost forgot there were cameras following us.

ELBEE Unfortunately, she also forgot she was miked!

It was all about his interactions with patients and staff. It was about the reactions of crew members who had never actually seen a therapy dog doing his job. I can’t remember details of most of the visits we did that day but there is one in particular that stands out and has stayed with me.

The patient was a handsome teenage boy who had been hospitalized for months,  waiting for a heart transplant. He was so excited about meeting Stanley. He was delighted when I put Stanley on the bed and applauded when he did his tricks. Stanley even managed to “say his prayers,” which I didn’t know he had mastered.

What struck me most were the boy’s sweet smile and his positivity. He chatted about his own dog, his friends, about being away from home. I never heard a note of resentment. He amazed me and inspired me.

Dog Masters deals with problem dogs but it also shines a light on dogs who are heroes. How ironic, in that hospital room with my hero dog sprawled across his lap, I met a human hero.

 

 

 

 

 

 

And the Guilt Goes On

On Yom Kippur, not only was Stanley my partner in crime, but he stepped up to a big challenge, visiting the neuropsych units for the first time. Being unpredictable, it’s a more difficult environment. Stanley handled it almost like a pro.

CHARLEY  Of course he did. We were keeping an eye on him.

And yes, I’m obviously still trying to justify going in on the holiday.

ELBEE Oy vey. She needs to let it go.

 

 

My biggest concern was the kids under twelve, who often have a very high energy level. Stanley, at 16 months, is still a kid himself, so I could imagine him reacting to that energy. Somehow, he took it all in but managed to keep himself in check. With their giggly encouragement, he gave them “kisses” which he doesn’t usually do.

In the adult unit, before going in to see our group, we were asked to do a private visit with a patient who didn’t want to come out of his room. We walked in to find a very quiet, seemingly shy, young man wearing sunglasses. He spoke so softly that it was difficult to hear his voice, but as he petted Stanley I saw the trace of a smile on his face.

A few minutes later, while we were interacting with the patients gathered in the day room, I suddenly saw the young man standing in the doorway. Apparently, wanting to see Stanley again had given him the incentive to come out of his room.

The teens in the eating disorders unit, some who have been in and of the hospital for years, have a very special kind of love for the dogs. They always joke around and tell me it would be absolutely fine if I wanted to take off but leave the dog with them for the day.

ELBEE They’re not joking.

Stanley and I were on the large recreation deck with two of the girls from the unit. There was activity swirling around us but we were in a corner talking  baseball. One girl was a Dodger fan. The other was rooting for Washington. She said she’d think of me when they won. We don’t need to discuss that any further.

Suddenly, I felt a tiny stick lodged in the fur near Stanley’s paw. The girls immediately started to help me remove it. As we sat there working on it together, it struck me how beautiful and simple it was. We were just three people helping one big dog.

ELBEE Let us pray that this takes care of her Yom Kippur guilt for the year.

My Post Hospital Therapy Session With Stanley

 

 

The Yom Kippur Three Strikes Law

Wonder if there’s a three strikes law for Yom Kippur, a day of atonement, reflection and remembrance, a biggie as far as Jewish holidays go. If there is, I am definitely going to Yom Kippur jail.

ELBEE Where does she come up with this stuff?

This is the third time I’ve been to UCLA on the holiday. It always seems to fall on my regular day. Is it a test that I’m failing miserably? The last two times I’ve gone with my friend Donna who referred to us as “Yom Kippur felons.” She would bring her Bichon Tommy, Gus’s buddy. This year she couldn’t make it so Stanley and I were on our own

ELBEE Does Donna have inside information on the three strikes law?

CHARLEY  Did she even ask Stanley about his religious affiliation?

 

 

 

 

 

There really is strength in numbers. When you have someone aiding and abetting, you can share the guilt. Being there alone was a challenge. Fortunately, just as I was starting to question my decision (again) there were signs that I was doing the right thing.

As we walked by Maddie’s room, the surgery waiting area, a volunteer came running out and said that a family was having a very rough time and could use a dog visit. Their faces lit up when they saw Stanley. After a round of hugging and petting, they were relaxed and happy. Even if it was only for a few moments, they’d had a chance to breathe.

Outside of the ICU, a woman approached who was delighted to see us because she needed some dog love. As Stanley leaned against her while we chatted, she jokingly confided that her dog was a “brat.”

This went on all morning so by the time we left the hospital, I figured I was safe. Still, not able to leave well enough alone, I pushed it once more. How could I not watch the final game in the Dodger’s series against Washington. In my defense, it was almost sundown when the game started so I was sort of in the clear. When tragically they lost, I felt a tiny twinge of guilt.

On a serious note, on Yom Kippur I light candles in remembrance of some special people who, although they are gone, are still such a part of my life. My dad and my mom. It’s hard to believe she left us 50 years ago this week. My funny brother Stan. My dear friend Eileen. Too many others.

As I watch the candles flicker, I am comforted by memories of them. A part of me hopes that I’m making them proud, but an even bigger part of me hopes that I’m making them laugh.

 

 

The New Generation

Once a month the UCLA People Animal Connection holds a pet visit station. A few of the dogs in the program gather on the patio to meet and greet all of the people going in and out of the hospital.

This week it happened to be three puppies visiting and it was a party. Stanley and I worked along with Laura and her two poodles, Kennedy who is Stanley’s age and Jackie who is slightly younger. People were enchanted with their cuteness quotient, sweetness  and energy. Stanley’s only problem was that he didn’t understand why he wasn’t allowed to play with Kennedy.

STANLEY I still don’t get it.

Whether staff, family, patients or visitors, faces lit up seeing the pups. A man from Ohio, who was involved with the air transport of organs for transplant, was waiting on the patio for quite some time. Having had a chance to observe all of the interactions, he came over to tell me that he felt as if every hospital should have a therapy dog program.

Stanley, looking like a huge muppet, was in his glory. He was finally getting enough attention. There were lots of comments about his incredibly long eyelashes. Several people jokingly asked me if he used Latisse. One woman whispered to me that we were a magical team.

ELBEE I think I just threw up in my mouth.

 

There was something else that made this visit station very special. Over the past year or so the People Animal Connection has lost many of the “old guard,” dogs who did amazing work as long time members of the program.

Laura’s poodle Apollo was legendary for bringing a young girl out of a coma. My boy Charley was legendary for getting a catatonic woman to smile and pet him. Elbee was recognized for calming down an out of control little girl who was a danger to herself and others.

In this photo, Stanley is sitting in front of the classic PAC poster which includes not only the current dogs, but also pictures of Apollo, Charley, Elbee and some of the others who have left us. It was fitting and deeply touching that the three dogs at the monthly UCLA pet visit station were following in the paw prints of their big “brothers” and “sisters.”

I’m sure that somewhere all of the wonderful PAC dogs have reunited. There is comfort and joy in knowing that they are watching over us and guiding the new generation.

 

My Dogs Are “Spoilt”

Recently someone sent me this Spoilt Pet Test. I immediately had an issue with the word “spoilt.” Hey, once an English major, always an English major.

CHARLEY Again with the issues.

ELBEE She googled it! Can you believe?

Yes, I googled it. For those of you who share my concern, some sources said that either was correct but when in doubt to use “spoiled.” Interestingly, another source stated that “spoilt” was the preferred choice in England.

CHARLEY That’s ironic.

The quiz was a no-brainer. I don’t need a test to tell me that my dogs are spoiled. Look at the first statement, “Your pet is allowed to sleep in your bed.” Stanley and Gus have taken over the bed.And they’ve also taken over the sofa.

GUS AND STANLEY We were on guard duty.

Not only have I refused to move if they’ve fallen asleep on me but my foot has fallen asleep because they were on it. Of course they get Christmas presents although I’ve fallen down a little on the birthdays. Yes, I sign cards from them.

We recently cancelled a trip, partially because of them. As for greeting them  first, who else runs to the door with tails wagging?

ELBEE Certainly not the daughters

Actually, the quiz doesn’t go far enough. My hair products are in one drawer. Their hair products fill three baskets. The Doods have a chauffeur, that would be me. Also a full time maid who would also be me. Not to mention a personal chef.

ELBEE Putting packaged food in a bowl is not cooking.

On the other hand, the dogs would ace a “Spoilt Human Test.” They’re my constant companions when I’m home. They’re happy with whatever program I put on tv. They’ve become total Dodger fans.

When the husband and I are tired, they lay by our sides. They let us know when someone is walking by the house and when they’re gone. They make us laugh with their antics. When I’m sad they lean against me until I’m comforted.

At work they take my breath away. As a former sceptic, I never take it for granted when they show me miracles. I’ve seen people forget their pain, even if only for a few moments. I’ve witnessed clinically depressed people smiling for the first time in weeks. I’ve seen a schizophrenic little girl hug the dogs and tell them that she loved them. I’ve watched patients emerge from the haze of dementia or catatonia in response to the dogs.

I may wait on them hand and paw but I am happy to do it. They give me strength, a sense of purpose and joy. I don’t mind spoiling them because nobody spoils me the way they do.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

We’ll Be Here All Week

I started this post before Elbee passed and then, in the pain of losing him, put it aside. I decided to share it this week including the last Elbee remarks from when he was next to me instead of keeping an eye on me from above.

After Stanley somehow made it through intermediate obedience (okay we took it twice), I signed him up for a beginning tricks class. The tricks, like shake, crawl and spin, are useful tools in the hospital. For instance, the dogs don’t go in to see patients who are in isolation so instead of just passing by, Gus can dance in the doorway and Elbee and Stanley can wave. You’d be amazed how that brings out the smiles and the laughter.

ELBEE There’s a little more to it than being a useful “tool.” Someone likes to get in on the act.

He may have a point. I’ve shared that my father and my brother Stanley were hams in the best sense of the word. At my grandparent’s Catskill Hotel, my dad was “that guy” like in the movie Dirty Dancing. He emceed the shows, told all the jokes and sang while he and my mother were on the dance floor, not easy to pull off.

He was so charming and charismatic that it sometimes got him into trouble. My aunt was getting married and my dad was part of the wedding party. As he sauntered down the aisle in tophat and tails, the guests at the wedding began applauding and shouting “It’s Lester the entertainer.” Not the best thing before Here Comes the Bride. 

As a kid, I was incredibly shy and would cringe when my dad tried to have me come out on stage with him. It took years and my recovery from a near-fatal car crash to bring me out of my shell…way out. I guess I inherited the recessive ham gene. It just took a lot longer to show itself.

ELBEE Apparently she also inherited the flexing gene.

Stanley Who are these people? I’m so confused.

The other day Gus and I were entertaining a group of people in a waiting room at Providence Tarzana, milking the applause, when someone suddenly said “You should be on America’s Got Talent.” What a great idea. I can’t believe I’d never thought of that.

ELBEE And I’ve never peed on the carpet.

What I can’t believe is that she chose to use that as my last earthly comment.

 

The House Is Strangely Quiet

When I’m upset, I often go up into the mountains to work things through. Climbing the steep trails gives me a sense of peace, a sense of clarity. This week, however, was different. After losing Elbee, I found solace in the support of family, friends and countless people who had interacted with him at work. There was an outpouring of love. There was also a sharing of Elbee memories that made me happy and sad at the same time.

A therapist at UCLA commented that “he did things that none of us can do.” A friend who had seen him working in the ICU was amazed by his “understanding.” With tears in her eyes, a nurse said that she would miss the special moments when Elbee would come directly over to her as if to say hello.

Unfortunately, Gus and Stanley can’t share stories or express their feelings but it’s obvious that they’re both grieving. There are no games of tug or races around the yard.

The house is strangely quiet without Elbee. It’s not that the other two don’t bark, but Elbee was like the bark leader. He always had a lot to say. Gus and Stanley are moping around without him. They miss his voice and his presence.

Stanley is taking it particularly hard. He seems lost. Elbee, in a dog way, was his mentor. He taught him to heel and to do a perfect stay. He would tolerate the puppy behavior as Stanley pulled him around by his ear.

When I took Stanley to the groomer this week, everyone there said that they could feel his sadness. It was like an aura around him. We decided that taking him to the hospitals might help. He’d get lots of attention and would be distracted.

At UCLA most of the people we interact with were aware of what had happened. They were saddened by the loss but they’d had some time to process it. They were kind and caring. They showered Stanley with affection.

Going into Providence Tarzana was more difficult because many on the staff hadn’t heard about Elbee. They were learning about it from me. Several burst into tears. I was on the verge of losing it myself. Focusing on Stanley gave me room to breathe.

One of the other things that touched me this week was how many people were fans of the Elbee of my blog and how funny they thought he was. They didn’t want his voice to disappear. I suddenly asked myself, “Is it any stranger to hear him talking to me from above rather than from the couch in my office?” The oldest daughter does not need to answer that question.

Earlier in this post I was about to write that the past several days felt like an emotional cocktail. I immediately thought “Oh, Elbee would have had a field day with that one.” I promise he’ll be back when the time is right.