working dogs – Page 13 – Me and the Doods.com

Goodbye Elbee and Thank You

On Sunday, Elbee was his usual, energetic, over the top barking self. Suddenly, on Monday, he was lethargic and not eating, usually one of his favorite activities. After visits back and forth to the vet, he had surgery on Thursday night and they found an inoperable tumor. Sadly we had to let him go.

I had a weird virus when he was a puppy and couldn’t start training him as early as I’d hoped. Missing some of the crucial stages, there were times I was about to give up but friends encouraged me to stick with it. I’m glad I did.

Elbee was that crazy, full of life character who seemed as if he’d live forever. His unique personality made him a favorite of so many. Once you met Elbee, you couldn’t forget him. My fifteen year old grandson said, “He’s my favorite animal to have ever lived.”

Elbee leaves a legacy of special moments. For instance, there was the little girl that he visited in the neuropsych unit. Within minutes she went from being out of control, smashing her head on the wall and crying, to sitting on the floor with Elbee, teaching him how to take a bow after he won her over with his tricks.

There was the teenage boy in another psych unit who was disruptive and yelling, not wanting to join the group gathered around Elbee. After some time, he actually lay down on the floor and hugged Elbee. Then I heard him whisper, “I love you.”

At an adult health center, a man with severe depression who only smiles when the dogs are there, fell in love with Elbee. When Elbee would put his paws on a chair and bend his head as if “saying his prayers,” the man always felt as if the prayers were just for him.

Somehow Elbee’s alter ego developed a life of its own in my blog. He inspired my writing. I could hear his voice and knew what he was going to say. In the strangest way I felt as if I was channeling him. It gave me such artistic freedom.

His sarcastic remarks kept me in check. His honesty was refreshing. His thoughts made me and other people laugh. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve heard, “Elbee is so funny.”

Now I have to day goodbye to the real Elbee and the Elbee of my imagination. It’s one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to do. Thank you Elbee for being a larger than life character, for inspiring me and others and for making us laugh. Thank you for all of the amazing work and the healing that you did so selflessly.

Stanley and Gus are lost without you and keep waiting for you to come home. I take comfort in knowing that you’re home with your brother Charley and with your dear buddy Riley.

Expect the Unexpected

Going to UCLA with one of the dogs always brings the unexpected. As soon as we enter the lobby we have all sorts of interactions, some calm and low key, some emotional and others just light and fun. Sometimes I find out that a simple encounter had much more impact than I realized. Wednesday was no exception.

I walked into the hospital, Gus bouncing along by my side with the usual smile on his face. Once I tie on his blue PAC bandana, he’s ready to take on the world. I think that like Elbee and Stanley, he enjoys solo encounters, being the center of attention. It’s his time to shine.

Three women came over to see him, saying how adorable he was. One of them, who is now a dog trainer, told me that she had been involved with PAC in its early days before she moved out of state. She was a huge fan of pet therapy. Another one of the women, who was hugging Gus, commented on how much better he was making her feel. Then, to my shock, she looked at me and quietly shared, “My husband just passed away.”

I later leaned that she had been visibly distraught when she’d first come downstairs. Gus was somehow the support that she needed. He was providing a serene space in the midst of heartbreak.

Shortly after saying goodbye to the three women, Gus and I found ourselves surrounded by about ten people. Being a teaching hospital, UCLA often has groups of students or faculty passing through. When they first spied Gus I heard a collective chorus of, “OMG he’s so cute.”

With that kind of an audience how could I resist. Out came the tricks. Gus is so familiar with the routine that he started doing some of them on his own. I asked him to dance and before I knew it, he was waving and playing peekaboo. He finished to a round of applause.

As I took him outside for a short break before we headed up to our regular neuropsych units, I was struck by the difference in the two impromptu visits. The three women, especially the wife of the man who had just passed, needed a few quiet moments of comfort. For the upbeat group, it was an entertaining break in their day.

I was trying to put it all in perspective but Gus and his fellow therapy dogs, don’t have to think it through. It’s simply what they instinctively do. The only tell tale sign of how much they give is how tired they are at the end of a work day.

Someone recently sent me this photo of what therapy dogs may actually be feeling.

ELBEE Sorry to break the mood but I believe it’s called a meme and I only feel like that at home.

Okay, maybe I am guilty of oversharing with the Doods.

Stanley Is on Probation…the Good Kind

Stanley did his first official visit to UCLA Medical Center last week. It’s kind of a probationary period to be sure that he’s ready for the big time like patient visits and possibly the neuropsych units.

ELBEE Oh, it’s probation not parole. I couldn’t figure out what I had done wrong and kept trying to get my record expunged. I never thought that being funny was a misdemeanor.

Being able to practice in the lobby and other public areas of the hospital is such a gift. On the day that he passed his test, just for fun, I had taken him to meet a few people on staff. Now with his acceptance letter from Pet Partners, it was for real.

I was so proud but also a little nervous as we entered the front doors. With the high ceilings, the noise and the chaos it can be a bit overwhelming. Stanley immediately put my fears to rest. He strutted at my side like a pro.

ELBEE It’s amazing how often we have to do that. She is very high maintenance.

As one of his first tests, I walked him over to meet Virgil, the security guard who is a big fan of Gus’s. Not only did Stanley sit for Virgil to pet him but then he nudged against him. It was love at first “lean.”

With his size and fluffy muppet appearance, Stanley is hard to miss. One person after another approached. He interacted with people of all ages as if he’d been doing it for years. From toddlers to seniors in wheel chairs, Stanley was receptive and sweet, no jumping, no barking. I lost count of how many times I heard the words that are always music to my ears, “He just made me so happy.”

There was a moment right after we arrived when it truly became real. Erin, from the People Animal Connection, saw Stanley and asked why I hadn’t put on his hospital bandana. I guess part of me wondered if it was too soon. Fortunately I just happened to have Charley’s old scarf in my purse.

ELBEE What a surprise!

As I tied it around Stanley’s big shaggy neck, it struck me that he was really an official therapy dog. It was a simple gesture but as it had been with Charley, Elbee and Gus, it was a symbol of the journey ahead. And once again I was lucky enough to be holding the leash.

Training a Therapy Dog…Marathon or Sprint?

Last Sunday when I was hiking, there was a trail race going on in the Santa Monica Mountains. Entrants had a choice of a 5K or a half marathon. I watched from the top of a hill but, being a devout non-runner, would have chosen neither. If for some weird reason I ever get inspired to run, I just break into a 50 yard jog and that takes care of the urge.

Hearing that, it may be shocking to find out that I ran the L.A. Marathon. Yes, the L.A. Marathon. Okay, it was years ago and I walked most of it but it was still one of most challenging things that I’ve ever done, other than training Elbee. Just kidding.

ELBEE Not funny.

But I finished before dark and even have the medal hanging on my desk chair.

ELBEE That’s a marathon medal? I thought it was a piece of cheap costume jewelry.

It also made me think that training a therapy dog really is a marathon. Initially it’s a puppy sprint. You have to get through the peeing everywhere, the not sleeping, the chewing shoes and in some cases furniture. Then after a few months, it’s time for obedience training.

ELBEE Is it just me or is going from a mountain race to the marathon to training a puppy the most convoluted reasoning you’ve ever heard?

Once Stanley mastered sit, stay and down, the real endurance run began. Just like cheering crowds offer support along the marathon route, I’ve had lots of support along the way with people cheering us on, hoping that he’ll follow in his big brothers’ paw prints.

There is one group in particular that has gone above and beyond…the staff at Providence Tarzana Wound Care Center. Most of them knew Elbee and Gus from the hospital and had heard lots about the “huge puppy.”

Then on a day that my husband was working there, he called to ask me to bring Stanley down. A patient had heard about him and was really anxious to meet him. From the moment we walked into the waiting room, it was like training central. As a bonus, Stanley had his first elevator ride on the way up to the office.

It was so much fun and he was such a hit with the staff, and with the patient, that we’ve gone back again. One of the nurses even went so far as to borrow a walker so that he would be used to it for testing. I’m not saying he was perfect, that’s him “signing in” at the desk, but I couldn’t ask for more enthusiasm and for better practice conditions.

When, fingers crossed, the day comes that Stanley and I cross the testing finish line, they will have helped us get there. Hopefully I can repay their kindness by bringing him in to comfort patients as an official therapy dog.

Happy Birthday Stanley

It’s hard to believe that Stanley turned one this week. I’m having such guilt about not throwing him a party but I did sing “Happy Birthday.” The only problem is that the way he was staring at me and tilting his head back and forth, I think I may have been hurting his ears.

It seems like just yesterday that I was falling in love with the tiny puppy cuddled in my lap. Now I could probably fit in his lap

GUS Do dogs have laps?

ELBEE No they don’t.

Watching him go through different ages and stages has been a fascinating journey. I don’t remember the other Doods changing so much from month to month. It’s probably because I’ve been writing about him. Let’s be honest, if I didn’t have baby books for the daughters and they asked me trick questions like “at what age did I walk?” I’d have to make up the answers. Just kidding.

ELBEE Way too much oversharing. Not kidding.

GUS Do I have a babybook?

There have always seemed to be two Stanleys, the sweet well behaved one and the totally trying one. From toddler to teen, he could be cuddling one minute and then carrying on like a silly puppy the next. At one point, when he was being disruptive in class, I even asked the trainer what was wrong with him and she replied, “Oh he’s a teenager.”

I’m not saying he’s perfect, far from it, but the last month or so has been a real calming period which is fortunate because he is a big boy! He plays beautifully with Gus and Elbee, seeming to realize that his size can be intimidating. He follows me and the husband around the house, just wanting to be near us. When we come home, he’s the picture of sheer quiet joy, no mouthing, no barking.

When we’re out walking, he’s showing more impulse control. I can see there are times when he’s ready to jump on someone but then somehow stops himself. We met a woman in a wheelchair and he just leaned against her while we talked.

On the other hand, he is a huge attention seeker. If I start to brush one of the other two, he will push them out of the way so that I’ll brush him. If someone is not giving him the attention he thinks he deserves, he has a ridiculous go to move. He starts spinning around yanking on his own leash, or on Gus’s if he’s with us. Unfortunately, it works. People usually start laughing and are immediately engaged.

I was afraid I had another diva in the making but I suddenly realized that he was the definition of a ham, someone who says and does silly things to get attention. I confess, he gets it from my side of the family.

His namesake, my brother Stanley, was a ham in the very best sense of the word. Whether it was an audience of two or two hundred he would have them eating out of his hand. My father was the ultimate ham. When I was a little girl we’d spend summers at my grandparents’ hotel in the Catskills. My dad would emcee the shows and entertain the guests. He was that guy…the one everyone knew and loved.

When, with luck, the day comes that Stanley is a therapy dog, being a ham may be a good thing. He can shower people with love and kindness and then leave them laughing.

My Friend Elaine

The good news is that this is not another obituary. My dearest friend Elaine is alive and well and living on the East Coast. We met in sixth grade and bonded over a report on Aristotle.

STANLEY What’s an Aristotle?

ELBEE He was a philosopher, someone with a lot of opinions about a lot of things. With his teacher Plato, he’s considered the “Father of Western Philosophy.” Hey, I dabble.

Elaine has always been there for me through the highs and lows. We have cried together. We have laughed together. Strangely we both have the unfortunate habit of laughing hysterically at totally inappropriate times. We celebrated graduations, birthdays and births. We had our first drinks together. We shopped for wedding gowns.

When my dad died on that high school morning long ago, she was the first one there. When my mom died suddenly and it took me twenty four hours to get to Syracuse by plane and then by bus, Elaine met me at the station.

She even flew out to California for my first bodybuilding show, a huge step in my recovery from that near fatal car accident.

ELBEE Also her first diva moment.

STANLEY I’ve never seen anything like that.

ELBEE Gus will explain it.

Elaine probably knows me better than anyone else in the world so after “binge reading” some of my older posts, she shared a theory that made a lot of sense to me.

ELBEE I know people are binge watching Game of Thrones but her blog?

She remembered that I’d always been an animal lover but wondered if the “happenings” in my life were a catalyst for the work I’ve been doing with the dogs. It’s a world that I can, at least, somewhat control and where the outcome is positive. Not only does it benefit me, but the people we encounter.

It was fortuitous when Charley came into my life just after I’d read an article about the program at UCLA. He taught me what was possible. He was followed by Elbee, who was a bit more work but who has shown me miracles. Then sweet Gus found his way to me. I am so grateful for his gifts. I am also deeply hopeful that this incredible journey will continue with Stanley by my side.

When Elaine and I were kids, we’d take the bus downtown to go shopping. It was a fun Saturday excursion in a simpler and safer time. I don’t remember anything either of us purchased except for two special items. We bought little matching lion charms. To this day, we each have them. When I wear mine, I think of my friendship with Elaine and the years and the miles disappear.

Therapy Dogs, Always on Call

I was never the most graceful kid on the block. As a matter of fact some people have referred to me as a klutz.

ELBEE Let’s see. Among other things, she tore her hamstring sort of running, broke her foot walking, and gave herself a black eye in “remedial” gymnastics. And lets not forget the dislocated shoulder in yoga.

STANLEY Is that possible? I’m canceling puppy yoga.

A few days ago when I was walking Elbee and Gus, I bumped into a large concrete thing sticking out of the sidewalk and tore a huge piece of skin off my leg. I think it’s because I was paying more attention to the dogs than to where I was going.

ELBEE AND GUS We are totally innocent.

I knew that a simple bandaid wasn’t going to cut it, so I called the husband who, fortunately, happened to be working in a wound care clinic that day. Not surprised at all, knowing my history, he told me to come on down. I was halfway there when he texted me to bring Gus. A few of the patients wanted to meet him. With blood dripping down my leg, I went home to get him.

ELBEE She’s being overly dramatic.

As I limped into the waiting room, everyone practically broke into applause at the sight of Gus. An older couple in particular was delighted. They had wanted to see him for quite some time and had even been planning to come down to one of his demos at the Science Center.

We finally made it past his fans and into a treatment room. I was lying on a table when Terry, one of the nurses, came in to take care of me. Gus, who had been sitting quietly on the floor, suddenly stood up and put his legs on the edge of the table. He refused to move until Terry picked him and put him next to me.

As Terry, and then the husband, cleaned and dressed the wound, Gus stayed cuddled by my side. It was as if he knew it was his job to help me deal with the pain, okay it was only a little discomfort.

When we were leaving, there was a very handsome young man sitting in the waiting room. His face lit up as he asked me to bring the dog over to him. I could tell that he had some issues, but he was completely at ease petting Gus. After a few moments, he looked up at me and said, “Thank you. That just made my day.” When I hear those words, it always makes my day.

P.S. Stanley is obviously not an official working dog but this week, like Gus, he was my personal therapy dog. Aside from the whole leg thing, I had either the plague or some sort of cold that refused to go away. Stanley made it his business to comfort me.

ELBEE Some of you may be saying, “Aww.” I’m going with drama queen!

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.

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.

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.