Oversharing in the Mountains

A few days ago, I was coming down from the mountains with Stanley when a young woman who had also been hiking stopped to admire him. She commented that his hair reminded her of her cat.

STANLEY What’s a cat?

ELBEE Oy vey.

As she was petting him, she asked me his name. When I said “Stanley,” she laughed and told me that was her boyfriend’s name. She was curious as to why I’d chosen it. I explained that Stanley was my wonderful brother who had passed away years ago. I added that he was very funny and that I was sure he got a kick out of it.

That’s when the flood gates opened. Hearing about my loss while surrounded by the beauty  of nature with the comfort of Stanley in her arms, this complete stranger began sharing intimate details of her life. By the way, Stanley is nowhere near ready for a structured situation. He still chases his tail and barks at leaves blowing on the ground. Apparently, though, he is very good at trail therapy.

She told me that she’d lost her mother a few years earlier. Even though loss is different for each person, I shared that my mother had died when I was young so I could understand her pain. That’s when she opened up even more.

After losing her mother she realized that she really didn’t have an addictive personality so she stopped chain smoking and drinking. She also lost over 100 pounds. Still, she was dealing with unresolved issues of anger and grief.

I don’t know if my inner grandma took over or if it was having Stanley with us, but I tried to help. I could see by the expression on her face that a few of the things I said stuck a chord with her. It became a walking therapy session. Not sure how but even the daughters came up.

When we reached a water fountain in the park leading up to the trails, Stanley needed a drink.

ELBEE I bet he did.

She began to fill up a bowl that had been on the ground but before we knew it, he jumped on top of the fountain. Maybe this had all been too much for him.

ELBEE Of course it was.There was way too much oversharing all the way around.

She thanked me as we said goodbye. Heading to my car which was parked some distance away, it struck me how random this encounter had been. If I’d been walking alone, we probably would have smiled and just said “hi.” Because of the big, beautiful, goofy puppy by my side with the name Stanley, two strangers had a few moments of raw emotional connection.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Requiem for Riley

Riley, our Golden Retriever, passed away last week. He would have turned 16 in March. Even though he had been slowing down, he was still taking his morning walks with my husband. Then suddenly his body gave out. He was unable to stand up or lie down on his own. We knew that it was time to let him go with dignity.

His passing was peaceful yet so sad. After we lost Charley, his uncle, two years ago, Riley by virtue of seniority, became the pack leader. The Doods seem a bit lost without him. I wish there was a way to explain to them where he’s gone.

As a  puppy, Riley joined Cody, our other sweet Golden and Larry, my brother’s  Border Collie mix whom we adopted when my brother passed away. They were each nine at the time but Riley breathed new life into them. He kept them on their paws.

Riley was many people’s favorite, including two of the daughters (I’m not naming names). He was calm and mellow, especially compared to the Doods, who let’s face it, are a lot more attention seeking.

He’d sit by your side offering companionship and comfort without constantly having to be acknowledged. When someone came in the front door, he’d wait to be petted instead of almost knocking them over to get attention first. He was actually a great compliment to the Doods.

ELBEE I loved Riley and really miss him but I’m a little hurt by the comparison. For the record, as the new pack leader, I’m trying hard to watch over Gus and Stanley.

Riley was such a part of the family for so long, he even predated the grandchildren. It’s hard to remember a time when he wasn’t with us or to believe he isn’t with us now. Today when I was feeding the other three, I kept expecting him to walk in a few minutes later as he has in the past few months.

It’s also the little unexpected things that make us miss him even more. Riley loved to hang out in the laundry room. It was like his den. The only problem was that he would often sleep against the door leading to the garage. Every time we came home we had to gently push him out of the way to get into the house. This morning, I felt a twinge of sadness when the door opened easily.

Goodbye beautiful Riley. I hope we gave you the best life possible. Thank you for the gifts that you gave to all of us. We take comfort in knowing that Charley will be waiting to welcome you when you cross the rainbow bridge.

 

 

Gus is a Dodger Dog

ELBEE Oy, are you kidding me with that title?

It’s no secret that I’m a long time Dodger fan, the obnoxious kind who yells and screams. You can only imagine my excitement last Friday when several of the players made a special visit to UCLA Medical Center. Along with staff members, a few PAC teams were on hand to greet them. I brought Gus who, of course, was in a Dodger tee shirt with his ears, tail and paws temporarily dyed blue thanks to his “colorist” Marsha.

GUS I know she can’t help herself and I’ve been so many different colors that I’m starting to like it.

Donna, who is the person to Gus’s buddy Tommy, a Bichon, and I nearly lost it when their bus pulled up in front of the hospital. It was all we could do not to cheer when players like Cody Bellinger, Chris Taylor and Walker Buehler came through the door. It was almost surreal to be mingling with them. I think they were a little surprised to see the dogs, but seemed to love it.

Just when I thought things couldn’t get any better, I found out that each team would be partnering with a player to make patient visits. Pitcher Kenta Maeda would be joining me and Gus on pediatrics. Do you know how many times I’ve rooted him on or groaned when he had a rough game?

Once I got over “fan girling” as we were introduced to him and his interpreter, the next hour was truly beautiful. Faces lit up as we walked through the halls of the hospital. Kenta was incredibly sweet and kind to every single person.

It was when we went into the patients’ rooms that the magic happened. People  did double takes when they saw a famous baseball player and a blue and white dog walk in to see them. With Kenta at his side and Gus cuddled on his bed, a young boy in the PICU quietly said that it made his day.

We walked into another room where the mother was a huge fan. The toddler in the bed was even wearing a Dodger’s baseball hat that had been autographed by several players. Kenta graciously signed the hat for her. Somehow Gus was lucky enough to end up wearing it. Gus also had a very special moment when Kenta picked him up and carried him!

 

 

 

 

 

 

ELBEE As a Dodger fan, I was maturely dealing with not being there but this photo put me over the edge.

When we made our way back to the lobby, I had the added treat of meeting Dave Roberts, the manager of the Dodgers. I’ve always loved his attitude and demeanor. He was as nice as I’d hoped. Unfortunately, when Gus and I, along with Tommy and his sister Finley, had a chance to take a photo with him, I came out with what was probably my dumbest fan comment of the day. I told Dave Roberts that I was a “granny groupie.” He managed not to laugh as he kindly said that he liked “granny groupies.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Goodbye “Mayor” Bruce

Bruce Tufeld, well known agent and personal manager, passed away on Tuesday at the age of 66. To everyone at Braemar Country Club in Tarzana, he was the “mayor” of the fitness center. Perched on his favorite bike, Bruce held court. He knew everyone by name and they knew him.

After finding out from the big orange letters on his favorite sweatshirt that he was a graduate of Syracuse University, my alma mater, my husband and I nicknamed him Syracuse. He had a nickname for me too. One day I walked in with my hair spiked up, and from across the room, I heard, “Hey, Rod Stewart.”

Whether cheering on his beloved Dodgers or kidding someone nearby, Bruce loved to laugh and have a good time. The hours he spent on the bike were like a party. There was a certain energy in the room when he was there.

He had a very thoughtful caring side too. He knew that my grandson had health issues and would often quietly ask how he was doing. When younger people were working out, he’d inquire about their parents. When the parents were there, he’d ask how the kids were doing away at school. Often I’d see him engaged in deep conversation trying to help someone who had a problem.

Bruce never complained, that is unless something in the fitness center needed to be fixed. After all, he was the “mayor.” He had health issues like many of us do but I never heard him complain about them. The last time I spoke to him, he was very excited that he was heading back east the next day to meet his first grandchild. Bruce was a family man. And of course he was a dog person.

Assuming that he was still away, I was shocked to hear that he had passed. The only hint he ever gave was a comment a few months ago. We were joking about age, since I had a few years on him, when he suddenly said, “I’m sure you’re going to outlive me.” Then we both laughed.

I went there today and the room was quiet without his huge presence. It’s hard to believe that this year is so new and that both Bruce and my friend Roberta are gone. They were truly forces of nature. Like Roberta’s family, Bruce’s family is going to hold a celebration of his life.

In an obituary, I read the most positive message from his family.  In lieu of donations, they asked “that you love every day and everyone as he did.” Rather than mourning, what a beautiful way to honor his life and to carry on his legacy.

Goodbye Bruce. We’ll miss you but we’ll think of you every time we look at your special bike. Thank you for your warmth, your kindness and above all your laughter!

 

The Year of the Doodle

In the Chinese Zodiac, this is the year of the pig. I’ve always loved pigs so was very happy to see that. As a matter of fact, I recently had the sweetest interaction with a 700 pound pig at the Gentle Barn animal sanctuary. When the daughters were little, I’d take them to the farm at Pierce College because they enjoyed seeing the pigs so much.

ELBEE I’m sure it comes as no surprise that I’ve eavesdropped on the daughters. They had about as much interest in the pigs as I do.

In my own personal Zodiac, this is the year of the Doodle. They were there for me as 2019 arrived. And it arrived with a bang!

ELBEE I hate to burst her bubble but isn’t every year the year of the Doodle?

On New Year’s eve day, my husband woke up with excruciating pain in his side. After a visit to the emergency room and extensive tests, it was determined that he had a pulmonary embolism, a blood clot in his lungs. The doctors decided to keep him in overnight for observation. The good news is that he is on medication and doing well.

While he was resting in the hospital, I went home and spent New Years eve with the Doods. Contrary to reports from the 10th anniversary party at UCLA, they are not big drinkers. There was no champagne involved but they were great company. We curled up on the bed and watched as the New Year was celebrated in 2 or 3 different time zones. We didn’t quite make it for the west coast.

ELBEE AND GUS For the record, we would not have turned down a nice glass of champagne if it had been offered. Stanley is obviously too young to drink.

On New Years day, my beautiful friend Roberta lost her battle with brain cancer. (Roberta) Although relieved that she was finally out of pain and at peace, I mourned her passing. As the Doods sat and comforted me once again, I thought about how many times they had comforted her.

With all that the dogs, even Stanley, did for me last week, I was pretty sure that this was my year of the Doodle. Then as I was looking for maybe another sign, I realized that the daughters had already come through with flying colors. For Christmas, one of them (I am not naming names) had given me a “Doodle Lover” tee shirt.

THE DOODS The shirt is fabulous. It brought tears to our eyes.

Another daughter had given me pajamas with a “Goldendoodle Mom” top.

THE DOODS I don’t think they got it quite right. It should really say, ‘Unpaid Doodle Employee.”

A happy, healthy Year of the Doods to all of you!

 

 

Roberta

On New Years day, my magnificent friend Roberta lost her battle against brain cancer. Not only was she a legend in the fields of education, law enforcement and government, she was a legendary friend. The glowing obituaries about her achievements can’t begin to capture her personal magnetism and power. She was so much more than a public figure.

Never one to brag about her own accomplishments, she made whomever she was with feel good about themselves. She changed so many people’s lives for the better. I was fortunate enough to be one of them.

She introduced me to an incredible chapter in my life. Roberta was the founder of the Los Angeles Police Academy Magnet Schools. An early advocate for strong women, she was upset that many of the girls didn’t have the upper body strength to keep up with some of the physical challenges like the obstacle course.

Knowing my background in bodybuilding and sharing my dedication to weight lifting, she brought me in to help them out. With her encouragement and support, I spent the next ten years training the most wonderful group of kids, both girls and boys. I also had the pleasure of working with several outstanding police officers.

When I was hiking with Stanley this week, two very polite teenage boys stopped to pet him. From their demeanor, it didn’t surprise me when I found out that they were part of the Police Academy Magnet at Reseda High School. As we stood there chatting, I started thinking about the countless other young people and their families whom have benefitted from Roberta’s tireless dedication.

Roberta was also the self-professed crazy dog lady. When she first got sick she found that visits from her neighbor’s dogs cheered her up. She then reasoned that if those pups helped, therapy dogs would be even better. That’s when Charley and Elbee, then Gus and even Stanley began visiting.

After lunch at the dining room table with the dogs at her feet, she would flop on the floor hugging them and laughing. Even as her illness progressed, she seemed to find comfort in their presence. They were a perfect distraction. I will cherish that time we spent together

Former Los Angeles police chief William Bratton said that Roberta was “the guardian angel of the Los Angeles law enforcement community.” I feel like she was my guardian angel too. Despite all of her many commitments, I always felt as if she was looking out for me, as if she truly cared.

I will so miss her presence in my life but I will stand in awe of her legacy. Good bye my friend. Thank you for the unimaginable gifts that you have left behind.

 

 

The Good, the Bad and the Oy Vey

It’s hard to believe that 7 months ago I didn’t know Stanley. He was only a mention in an email about his litter being born and he was part of a group photo. Now he has become a huge part of my life in mostly good ways and a few not so good.

 

Let’s get the oy vey out of the way first. The other morning I took Stanley hiking with my friend Mary. Except for his stealing Mary’s stick and stopping to sniff the ground every ten seconds, it was going relatively well. I was pretty proud of  the way he was strutting by my side.

Then we ran into Cooper, a Bernadoodle puppy who was like a walking ad for  obedience class. Instead of following his lead, Stanley got so excited that he started jumping around like a kangaroo who’s had too much caffeine

That was nothing compared to his reaction when we met children on the trail. He loves them so the leaping around was accompanied by high pitched barking.

ELBEE His range is impressive.

Apparently he also loves runners because every time someone jogged by, he pulled on the leash and tried to sprint off with them.

On the home front we still have issues like counter surfing and occasional peeing. And would someone tell me why he greets the mailman so nicely but acts like a lunatic when anyone comes in the front door.

Still, going into the new year I’d rather focus on the positive. Stanley, Elbee and Gus have made a lot of progress in their relationships.

ELBEE In the past few weeks he has barely chewed on my ears. Maybe now I can finally get them pierced.

GUS I can’t believe I’m saying this but despite his ridiculous size, I actually enjoy wrestling with him. And doing laps together is keeping me in shape.

Stanley has gotten very attached to me and my husband. It’s sweet except when he insists on pushing his way into the bathroom and gets stuck between the toilet and the wall. He also thinks he’s a lap dog. Now who doesn’t love a lap dog except when he’s three times the size of your lap. Here he is with Nicole, the daughter who likes the dogs.

Hopefully, over time, we can train away the goofy jumping, the high pitched barking and other crazy puppy behavior. There is, however, something Stanley has begun to do on his own that I would never change.

I was walking him the other day when some people stopped to meet him. As one man was petting him, he suddenly smiled and said, “he’s leaning on me.” Then I ran into a young woman who instantly fell in love with Stanley. As she was bending over to pet him, she looked up at me with wonderment on her face and said, “He’s leaning on me.”

The amazing Charley, my first therapy dog, was a leaner. It was like a comforting hug. Although Stanley is very different from Charley in so many ways, it would be beautiful to see him carry on the lean.

 

 

Gifts of the Season

 

This week, as we were leaving the adult day health center, the staff gave me and the Doods the most thoughtful presents. For each of the dogs there was a big Christmas stocking filled with stuffed animals. Since they can tear a toy apart in a matter of minutes, they can never have too many.

ELBEE I’m a dog. That’s what we do.

 

 

For me, there was this silver necklace with a delicate paw print and an open heart plus a matching bracelet. It couldn’t have been a more perfect gift. It also made me think about the intangible gifts we had received that morning.

We had such positive interactions with so many of the “regulars” like the physically handicapped young man in the motorized wheelchair. He can barely move but still laughs as Gus and Elbee take treats that I place between his fingers.

An autistic man who had been anxiously awaiting to meet the dogs on our last visit, immediately came over to see them again. He seemed even more comfortable this time but I had no idea how much it really meant to him. One of the staff heard him telling a therapist that he loved them.

Then Gus had a special moment with another participant that I’ve written about before. He suffers from severe depression and only smiles when he sees the dogs. He always asks me to have Elbee “say his prayers” because he feels they’re just for him. After talking to me for a few minutes he sat down on the couch, looking very sad.

Suddenly, Gus, who has never even tried to get on any of the furniture, jumped up next to him. Then he put his little paw on the man’s arm as if to hold it. I know that’s his move to get attention but at the time it really seemed like a loving gesture.

A short time later, another man came walking over as he saw me handing the Doods’ UCLA trading cards to a woman sitting alone at one of the long tables. He took a well-worn wallet out of his pocket to show me that he always carries the cards that I had given to him in the past. What touched me even more was that he had written the date across the top. I gave him those cards in 2016!

In this season of giving, when people are frantic to find that “special” present, I realized that a simple visit from a therapy dog is one of the most precious gifts. For anyone who has had the privilege of holding their own therapy dog on a leash, it is priceless.

Stanley Gets in the Spirit

 

 

 

 

Takin’ It to the Streets

WAITING FOR THE BUS

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.

VETERAN HARVEY & THE DOODS

Then there’s Harvey. He’s an elderly veteran who sets up a small table outside of a shopping center to collect funds for other veterans. In the many times that we’ve chatted, he has never asked for money. He is simply kind and friendly. He’s the grandpa we all wish we had. He loves the dogs, especially his new buddy Stanley.

Perhaps our most unusual encounter was with a woman who has set up a small encampment on the sidewalk by a 7-Eleven strip mall. Unlike many of the homeless who keep to themselves, she always greets me and the dogs.

One late afternoon, I was walking the Doods down a busy street, miles from where I’d always seen her. I was a little concerned because it was getting dark earlier than I had expected. Of course I was in a bright white sweater with two white dogs so we were hard to miss.

Suddenly, I saw a woman crossing the busy street. Wearing dark clothing, pushing a cart, and carrying several bags, she was moving very slowly. I was afraid that cars might not see her. To my surprise, when she reached us, she said, “I know you,” followed by “Puppy Power!” It was the woman from 7-Eleven who recognized me because of the dogs.

To my surprise, okay I was totally judging, she then asked if Elbee was a Great Pyrenees. It made me think about her and Harvey and some of the other “regulars” on our route. We don’t really know each other but our interactions are always positive. Maybe, just like in the hospital, for a brief moment, the Doods make their day. If they can do that for relative strangers, especially in this holiday season, I am grateful for the gifts they give.

 

 

 

 

 

Don’t Poodle My Doodle!

You might say that I have a Doodle obsession but even I know they’re fancy mutts and not a recognized breed. From Goldendoodles, to Labradoodles to Schnoodles, they have become increasingly popular. This morning was a perfect example. Elbee and Gus joined some of their colleagues for Christmas caroling at UCLA. Out of around 20 dogs, almost half were Doodles of some sort.

ELBEE Hold the phone. Fancy yes. Mutt, really? 

Aside from being a combination, they come in so many sizes, shapes and colors it would be almost impossible to judge a standard of the breed like they do at dog shows. Speaking of dog shows, yes, I’ve been known to watch them occasionally.

ELBEE Occasionally? She’s a fanatic! She and her friend Dennis text so much when there’s a show on television that it’s like they’re doing color commentary. 

Okay, dog shows are my guilty pleasure. On Thanksgiving, I was watching the National Dog Show when I saw the most incredible thing I’ve ever seen. It wasn’t a new breed. It was a new breed of judge! Generally they’re a little older.

ELBEE Her peeps. 

They also tend to be quite reserved and conservative. Imagine my shock when out walked a judge who looked like the singer Pink. She was wearing a red jumpsuit and had a leopard print tattoo down her exposed arm. She was fabulous.

ELBEE She couldn’t text Dennis fast enough.

But I digress. I was talking to Marsha, groomer to the Doods, about their popularity. She said that people have recently come into the shop asking if she knows how to do a specific “breed cut” for a Doodle. In other words, they don’t want her to Poodle their Doodle.

For the record I don’t have her Poodle my Doodles but it has nothing to do with breed. I love their hair longer and a little shaggy. So do the patients in the hospital, especially the kids.

THE DOODS Just a coincidence that it looks like hers.

It’s no secret, however, that I diva my Doodles. I have more combs, brushes and hair products for them than I do for myself. They are so used to attention in the hospital and on our walks, that they seem to take it personally if someone doesn’t compliment them or, heaven forbid, ignores them.

This week at the adult day health center, their “divadom” reached new heights. The sun was shining when we went in, but it was raining when it was time for us to leave. Not wanting the dogs to get wet, three of the wonderful women on staff became their personal umbrella holders!

ELBEE Dreams do come true!

Stanley, at six months, is well on his way. Of all the places I’ve taken him to socialize, the hair salon seems to be his favorite. He thrives on the attention and the atmosphere of preening and pampering.

Charley posed for this photo as part of a special event at UCLA. Stanley posed for this photo just because he could.

Charley

Stanley