working dogs – Page 7 – Me and the Doods.com

Call Me Pollyanna

ELBEE If she’s Pollyanna then call me Santa Claus.

I was very touched to receive unexpected messages from friends who told me how I’d helped them navigate this past year. I guess sharing my crazy, unpredictable journey through COVID let people know that they were not alone.

ELBEE I think oversharing would be more appropriate.

This week with restrictions lightened there has been an air of cautious optimism. Yet attitudes still range from “I’m ready to go to dinner and a movie,” to “I’m wearing a mask forever.”

The uncertainty is its own challenge. At the market all of the “keep your distance” markers are gone. Masks are only mandatory for those who aren’t vaccinated but how do we know? How do we move forward? How can I help?

ELBEE I’m so confused.

I thought the best way was to get in touch with my inner Pollyanna and share some positives.

For instance, take this sign that I saw on a street leading up to the hiking trails.

ELBEE Notice how it’s cropped. You don’t want to know what else was posted.

I saw a notice on someone’s lawn to clean up after your dogs. To my surprise, they provided a roll of poop bags.

ELBEE I have to admit that was considerate although a bit embarrassing.

This art work, painted on a wall in the mountains, has remained untouched for years. Normally it would have been defaced. I guess it’s technically graffiti but it’s a timeless message and so fitting right now.

Kudos to the security guard who stays tirelessly at her post keeping watch on the delivery area of a local golf club. She has a smile and a wave for everyone who walks by. She has become a favorite of Gus and Stanley.

Lately, I began wearing two random, mismatched heart necklaces. It somehow felt right. I had them on last week when the husband and I met the oldest daughter and our granddaughter Samantha at the Huntington Library in Pasadena. The art gallery was closed but the beautiful gardens were in full display.

On our way out we stopped in the gift store where we saw a simple but perfect necklace. It was a thin chain with the word “love” in the middle. Samantha and I each got one and promised we’d think about each other when we wore them

Since things were going so well with the necklaces, and Samantha is an expert at TikTok, I asked her how she’d feel about making a video of me and Stanley dancing. The look on her face said it all. I guess despite the love and the necklace, grandma doing the fox trot with her dog was not something she really wanted to share with all of her friends.

For the Children

UCLA has partnered with the Department of Health and Human services to help care for the migrant children who are being temporarily housed at the Long Beach Convention Center. The People Animal Connection was offered the opportunity to provide pet therapy with weekly visit stations.

Last Wednesday, I hitched a ride with Jen Dobkin, the director of PAC, and took Stanley down for an experience that neither Jen nor I will ever forget. On the way there we were both nervous, not knowing what to expect. Once we arrived, I was glad we were together as we worked our way through security and COVID testing.

When we were finally led to a grassy area outside the center, the magic began. Groups of kids, between the ages of four and seventeen, came out to meet Stanley and Kelda a sweet Lab mix who was there with her owner Constance.

There was so much excitement as they gathered around the dogs. Once they knew that I could speak a little Spanish they had all sorts of questions in Spanish. What kind of dog was Stanley? How old was he? Could he speak Spanish?

Those were my cues. I shared that Stanley had just turned three this month and if they’d sing Feliz Cumpleaños, we’d dance for them.

ELBEE I think all of the Zoom calls have gotten to her.

Not only did they sing but they clapped along as Stanley put his big paws on my shoulders and we “danced.” They laughed when I put on his sunglasses and birthday tiara. They applauded when I told him “siéntate,” and he immediately sat.

ELBEE She used hand signals. I don’t know it that’s brilliant or shady.

They gave him water out of a small sports bottle, then gently wiped his beard with a towel. One little boy kept looking at Stanley and then at me. Suddenly, with a grin, he reached up and touched my hair. It was one of those funny, quiet gifts.

Group after group came out to visit, over 150 kids in all, one more enthusiastic than the next. They were appreciative when we gave them the dogs’ trading cards. They gently brushed Stanley with the soft baby brush that I use with kids in the hospital. Not once did I hear “you’re taking too long,” or “it’s my turn.” They gave each other space to pet him and rub his belly when he rolled over.

No matter the age, they were all so patient. As Jen said later, there was no whining. I am deeply grateful that being in the moment with the dogs temporarily helped them forget their difficult circumstances.

For reasons of privacy, we were not allowed to take any photos but it was impossible not to take mental pictures. The images of those wonderful children, who are going through so much but who felt such joy with Stanley and Kelda, will stay with me forever. I will always hear their laughter.

The Power of Connection

Surprisingly, even after this year of Zoom and FaceTime, I’m still struggling with social media. The dogs are better at it than I am. My dreams of being a grandma influencer are history.

ELBEE She can’t tell a hashtag from a hash brown and thinks that tweeting is something birds do.

My tech support team which consists of Ryder and Bella, my five and seven year old grandchildren, has threatened to quit.

Samantha, my twelve year old granddaughter, who can make a Tik Tok video as easily as I can blow my nose, has patiently tried to help.

ELBEE That is a horrible analogy. Speaking of noses, the only time she’s gone viral is when she’s had a cold.

What I do appreciate, even with my limited presence and expertise on social media, is the opportunity it provides to connect with one another. Through Facebook, I’ve reconnected with cousins that I haven’t seen in years, even ones who live across the world. I’ve heard from college friends and from hospital people who miss the dogs.

The most gratifying part of writing my blog is the response from friends who express how much they relate to what I’ve overshared. They tell me they feel the same way or that I’ve made them laugh. Over the past several months, we may not have been able to share a hug but we’ve stayed together.

The Zoom calls have kept the kids in the neuropsych units connected with Gus and Stanley. When they applaud the dogs’ tricks or tell me about their own pets, I know it’s working. The calls will never replace in-person visits, but they do fill a void.

Last week, more that ever, I realized that social media can offer a very special form of connection. With her blessing, I reached out to let others know how my daughter Nicole, an ICU nurse, was dealing with the aftermath of COVID. She wanted her fellow front line workers to know that they were not alone.

It was touching to see how people responded. They sent messages of love and support. They expressed gratitude for the work that she’d done. They asked if there was any way that they could help. It meant so much to her and to me.

Connection is always important but during difficult times it is crucial, whether in person or on social media. People cope differently, but reaching out to each other is one way to heal and move forward

It is also at the heart of what our therapy dogs do. Whether snuggling, rolling over for a belly rub or sitting quietly by our sides, their simple presence speaks to the power of connection.

A Morning of Love and Gratitude

Wednesday, for nurse appreciation day, six of the PAC dogs, three in Santa Monica and three in Westwood, did in person hospital visits. Normally, it would have been considered a special event, but since it was the first time the dogs had been back in over a year, it was a cause for celebration.

From the moment I checked in with Stanley and met up with his “co-workers,” Kennedy and Oliver, in the outdoor courtyard, there was a pervasive feeling of joy. The dogs were just as excited to be back as everyone was to have them back.

I spoke with several of the nurses and no matter their specialty, they shared how difficult the pandemic has been. It was even apparent from their tone of voice. Hard working and dedicated, nurses have always been heroes but this past year they have become super heroes. They were grateful to have us there. I felt gratitude at having the opportunity to say thank you.

As one person after another interacted with the dogs, I saw pure delight. They all smiled as they took photos, petted and hugged the dogs. The stress temporarily melted away. Over the last several months I’ve written about the dogs doing Zoom visits, but that morning I was overwhelmed as I was reminded of their simple in-person power.

Stanley also had a touching moment with a patient. A young man, who, I believe, was going through extensive cancer treatment, and his dad walked outside to see the dogs. Total dog lovers, we all laughed when the boy said he’d really question a relationship if his sweet dog growled at the girl. Despite the light conversation, Stanley sensed what the boy was going through physically and spent the whole time giving him the “lean.”

Later in the day, I was telling Nicole, my middle daughter who is an ICU nurse, about the visit. After an incredibly trying year taking care of innumerable COVID patients, she truly understood the emotion of the morning.

Going through a rough time herself, she asked me to share this message. She wants to reach out to others who are coping with the aftermath of the past year. She’d like them to know that what they are going through is real. There is no shame in reaching out for help.

Last weekend, after a few particularly difficult days with multiple unexplainable symptoms, she came to sleep over. As she, my husband and I put it all together, it became clear that she has a form of PTSD. It was almost a relief to have figured it out.

Acknowledging what she is dealing with, she is getting help and has developed coping mechanisms. She wants her fellow nurses and other front line workers to know that they are not alone. Offering each other love, support and understanding is an important step in moving forward.

Baby Steps

This week we did our routine Zoom call with the under twelves and the teens in the neuropsych units at UCLA.

ELBEE Routine if you consider sitting on the floor in front of a computer with Gus & Stanley in hats and sunglasses to be routine

Seeing the dogs dressed up caught the kids’ attention. It took some coaxing, a bit of singing and a few tricks from Gus and Stanley to get them fully engaged. It suddenly struck me just how much we all miss the in person visits.

The next day, for the first time in well over a year, I walked through the front door of the hospital. UCLA is in the process of bringing the volunteers back in so I was there to help things along. I brought Stanley with me by request.

Being back at the hospital felt so familiar and yet so strange at the same time. Usually when any of us walk in with one of the PAC dogs there is a ripple of excitement. People approach with big smiles.

Thursday the lobby was almost empty. There were COVID restrictions. There was a check in table as we entered. The guard looked a little surprised to see Stanley. Once a familiar sight, the dogs are now unexpected.

The best part of the morning was when we made our way downstairs to the volunteer office. There were only a few people there but the atmosphere was so welcoming. It was like a homecoming. They seemed glad to see me but Stanley made their day.

I have known Carey, the director of volunteer services, since the beginning of my journey. All of my dogs have loved visiting Carey and relaxing in her office. Stanley is no exception.

While I was doing paperwork with Sandra, Stanley made sure to give her some extra attention and to get some in return.

ELBEE He was working the system.

Stanley is turning three this month. There has been a lot of change in his appearance and in his demeanor since they last saw him. As I shared last week, he has developed such a resemblance to Charley, whom the women in the office all knew and loved. I think that brought them some extra comfort.

Things are still so difficult and uncertain. There is a long way to go to the new normal but spending the morning in the volunteer office made me hopeful. We are taking baby steps toward that special time when Gus, Stanley and all of the other PAC dogs can bring their close up magic back into the hospital.

There’s Something About Stanley

Charley, my first therapy dog, passed away four years ago. After charming everyone at a UCLA student athlete event, he spent a restless night. In the morning he lay down under some purple flowering bushes and was gone in twenty minutes. He had such grace and dignity.

Charley was my canine mentor. He was by my side when I began my therapy dog journey fifteen years ago. He really showed me the way. He was such a kind empathetic creature, the epitome of the gentle giant. No one who met Charley ever forgot him.

About to turn three, Stanley, has developed a strong resemblance to Charley, not only in appearance but in his demeanor. I’ve lost count of how many people have mistakenly called him Charley. It has struck such an emotional chord in me.

I took him to the bank recently and he stayed calmly by my side, walking a few steps at a time as we socially distanced. One of the tellers, who has known all of the Doods, forgot how many years have gone by and called out “Look it’s Charley.”

Lately I’ve been doing a lot of hiking with Stanley. It’s in the mountains that I truly appreciate his comforting presence. It reminds me of the sense of freedom that I had with Charley.

As another big shaggy dog, Stanley also draws a lot of attention. I have had so many conversations with people who would have said “hi” and walked on by if I’d been alone.

Two women, who were laughing because our hair looked the same blowing in the wind, stopped to chat. Of course I told them about being in I Love You Man with Charley because we looked so much alike.

ELBEE She just can’t help herself. I think she’s still hoping for a sequel with her blink and you missed it cameo.

What really impressed them was the way that Stanley calmly and protectively leaned against me as we were talking, something that Charley used to do. They fell in love with him and shared how much he had cheered them up. I have always treasured the “lean.”

In this time of uncertainty, not knowing what the new normal is going to bring, there is a change in mood. Following months of isolation, people are reaching out to each other. Stanley has become a bridge to reconnection.

This week he surprised me again by giving me a “hand shake,” something that I thought was unique to Charley. When I reached for his paw, he curled it around my hand and squeezed gently. It was as if it was a message from my first gentle giant.

Snakes, Bikes and Unrelated Coincidences

On one of the first warm days this spring I was hiking in the Santa Monica Mountains with Shelli and Ann Marie, two of my slightly younger friends.

ELBEE She could be their mother.

All of a sudden, when we were almost at the top of a steep, single-track trail, we heard a very loud, unmistakable rattle in the brush. I am not a fan of rattle snakes but I’ve encountered so many over the years that I don’t freak out. I’ve even forgiven the one that bit me on the ankle.

ELBEE Unlike the first time when she screamed and ran a half mile in the other direction.

My friends, on the other hand, basically freaked out. To give you an idea, at the end of the hike Shelli’s Fitbit showed that her heart rate was the highest for the three minutes post rattle.

They were ready to turn around and run back down. As senior hiker and self-appointed hike leader, I told them that wasn’t an option. It was too far, too rocky and the snake had relatives.

Promising that we’d stay on wide trails, I convinced them to follow me up to dirt Mulholland which is so open that the snakes can’t really hide. That’s when the bikers started flying by without bells. Unlike the snakes, who are very polite, they don’t give you a warning. (You know who you are.)

ELBEE She has such bike issues.

Shelli and Ann Marie, still in fear of seeing another rattling reptile, had no problems with the speeding lunatics and thought I was overreacting. That changed after our encounter with a visibly distraught woman coming up a narrow side trail.

When we stopped to see if she needed help, she said that a bell-less bike rider had flown past her, scaring her and almost causing her to fall. As we chatted and she calmed down, my friends were very sympathetic and I seemed like much less of a curmudgeon.

ELBEE Maybe.

Fortunately, thanks to the dogs, who weren’t even there, the hike ended on a very positive note. As were heading down to our cars, a young woman walking by stared at me for a moment and then asked, “Do you have two big fluffy white dogs?” My friends started laughing.

It turned out that years ago, when she’d had been seriously ill, I’d brought Charley and Elbee to see her at Tarzana Hospital. She’d never forgotten them. Of course, I had to tell her about Gus and Stanley and just happened to have their trading cards with me.

In another coincidence, when she saw UCLA Health on the cards she said she that she was going to be starting a job there. She’d recently completed her PhD in psychology and was going to be working in neuropsych at the hospital…our regular units!

ELBEE What are the chances?

And speaking of coincidences, a few days later, hiking with Stanley, I saw this poor snake that had been run over by a bike!

ELBEE Now that’s ironic, sad, but ironic.

A Special Virtual Visit

I started a different post a few days ago but then had an experience that I really wanted to share. I learned that the dogs can work “virtual” magic.

It’s hard to believe but it’s been a year since the Doods and I began doing Zoom calls with the kids in the neuropsych units at UCLA. The visits were initially pretty challenging as we all adjusted to the technology and the distance. Then, little by little, they developed a certain rhythm.

This week was no exception. Gus and Stanley were ready to Zoom, dressed in the finest that the Dollar Store has to offer.

ELBEE She has started wearing some of their accessories.

CHARLEY I’m concerned.

Once the patients were engaged, laughing and asking questions, I had the dogs do some of their tricks. I asked the kids to sing along when Gus was dancing and when Stanley was dancing with me. Since they really miss hugging the dogs, I’ve learned the sillier the better to capture their attention. It touched my heart when one of the boys asked if I could bring them in to see him.

Then Gus and Stanley started showing off and stealing screen time from each other. They have it all figured out. From the moment they see my laptop on the floor, their inner divas come out. It’s a little chaotic but seeing them wrestle is probably more interesting than watching them do a perfect sit.

ELBEE I would have been such a Zoom influencer.

After the groups, Robbie, the wonderful therapist whom I’ve known since starting with Charley, asked if we would do an individual visit. It was with a teenage girl who wouldn’t participate in the group calls but had a passion for rescuing dogs. When the patient was told that I truly wanted to hear about her rescues, she agreed to an iPad visit.

Although she generally distances from others and barely engages, seeing me sitting with Gus and Stanley, somehow encouraged her to open up. For the next ten minutes she shared very personal stories of dogs that she’d rescued.

Not until we’d said our on-line goodbyes did I find out just how special the visit had been. I learned that the teen has severe issues and can be very aggressive. She has a one on one aide with her in the hospital.

I had seen none of that as she talked so sincerely to me and to Gus and Stanley too. It reminded me of what our therapy dogs can accomplish, even remotely. For a few minutes, a troubled teen who loves animals saw mine on the screen and forgot her problems as she told me about the dogs in her life.

Confessions of a Stage Mom

In the spirit of honesty, I admit that this post is a blatant attempt to get votes for Gus in L.A.Magazine‘s cutest pet contest.

https://www.lamag.com/petfest/

ELBEE I would say desperate attempt.

Surprisingly, the oldest daughter, not the biggest fan of the Doods, texted me an article about the contest. I wondered if she was developing a soft spot for them.

ELBEE No. She bet a friend that her mother would be all over it.

When the daughters were growing up, I was more of a yelling from the sidelines kind of mom than a stage mom. Being an uncoordinated nerd who never played a sport, I loved cheering them on.

ELBEE She’s lucky she never got red carded at a soccer game.

When they were taking gymnastics, I got so carried away that I signed up for a class they were offering to delusional over-involved moms. To tell you how badly it went, I gave myself a black eye jumping off a mini-trampoline.

Technically I guess you could say that I first became a stage mom when I started bodybuilding. I brought the daughters to all the competitions, hoping they’d become my stage children and give me an extra push.

ELBEE Is she kidding? That’s a mom on stage not a stage mom. Those poor daughters.

It was only after the Doods came into my life that I became a true stage mom. I remember the exact day that it happened. I was walking with Charley, the gentle giant, my first therapy dog.

We passed a small crew that was filming random dogs and their owners for movie trailers. They asked if they could film me and Charley crossing the street. After thinking about it for two seconds I said “sure.” When we finished they gave me an envelope with fifty dollars. I still have it. Dog stage mom was born.

Among other things, Charley went on to do a featured cameo in I Love You Man, an appearance on Pit Bulls and Parolees, and an ad for Bedhead Pajamas. Somehow I even found him an agent.

I never got an agent for the others but have jumped at every opportunity for them to be in magazines, the news or on TV. Stanley, at not even two, filmed a show to be aired on Animal Planet. When they have photo shoots at UCLA, I am totally stage mom, primping and preening them.

This week I realized I’d really gone to the dark side. I received a spam call saying that I was going to be served an arrest warrant the next day whatever that meant. The creepy recording added that if I wasn’t served then, I’d be served at the sheriff’s station with law enforcement and media present. My first thought was,” wonder if I can bring Gus and Stanley.”

VOTE FOR GUS EVERY DAY TO MAKE THIS STAGE MOM GO AWAY

https://www.lamag.com/petfest/

ELBEE I am actually embarrassed for her.

My Epic Fail

In the past few weeks, with cautious optimism becoming more pervasive, people are really reaching out. Even with masks and distancing, when I’m walking with Gus and Stanley we have so many interactions that it’s almost like it was before COVID turned life upside down. More than ever, it makes me look forward to the day that we can return to in-person hospital visits.

A film crew we passed said that Gus and Stanley were just the break they needed.

GUS & STANLEY Unfortunately, when they told her what show they were filming, she said “I didn’t know that was still on.” We were so embarrassed. It could have been our big break.

An elderly woman, walking with her daughter on her way to physical therapy, stopped and said she’d rather get dog therapy. Another woman asked if she could take a picture of the dogs for her kids.

ELBEE Sorry but I fail to see how this socializing is a fail.

Here’s the problem. People are putting a positive spin on this past difficult year by sharing the things that they’ve accomplished. Some of us have not been quite as productive.

I’ve lost count of how many times I’ve heard that someone has taken up a new hobby, from photography to knitting to painting. I have no new hobbies. I tried going back to yoga but got nauseous doing it in front of the computer. Then I gave meditation a shot but kept falling asleep. I was told that was avoidance.

Other people have told me how they’ve totally cleaned house. They’ve gone through closets, old photos, cupboards. I’ve barely cleaned out the refrigerator.

As for cooking, I didn’t realize that I knew so many gourmets. They even grow their own herbs. My friend Shelli texted a photo of an absolutely beautiful meal that she’d prepared. I texted back a photo of Gus and a take out container.

One area where I have improved over the past year is hiking. More than ever the mountains have been my escape, my healing place, my sanctuary. It’s also my favorite place to do push-ups. Not to brag but some of my younger hiking buddies have referred to me as the “beast.”

ELBEE I’m sure that her being a senior has nothing do to with that.

I’ve also reached a new level of connection with Gus and Stanley. Okay, I admit that some friends have taught their dogs so many new tricks that they’ve received on-line certificates. I haven’t taught Gus or Stanley one new trick but I have bench pressed them.

We’ve done so many zoom calls together that it would be difficult for me to do one on my own. To top it off, with all of the time we’ve spent together over the past several months, I now speak dog.

GUS & STANLEY No, she doesn’t.