Me and the Doods.com

March Madness Goes On

March has always been an emotional cocktail for me.

ELBEE Personally, I prefer a margarita.

On an early March morning of my senior year in high school, my dad, a larger than life personality, lost his fight against brain cancer.

Six years ago this month, Charley, a gentle giant and my first therapy dog, suddenly left us. He worked an event with student athletes at UCLA, charming the crowd and posing for photos. After a restless night, he walked outside, lay down under some purple flowering bushes and was gone in twenty minutes.

ELBEE This is getting really depressing.

March third was my late wonderful brother Stan’s birthday. Although he’s been gone for over twenty years, I still light a birthday candle for him. On the bright side, Gus is turning nine next week. I’m looking forward to celebrating his therapy dog journey.

ELBEE Hello? Is she forgetting that I have a March birthday?

When Gus was re-homed with us, the woman who gave him up told me very sincerely, “I want you to give him a good life.” So far, he’s had a great life. Every time he walks into the hospital, tail wagging, he lights up the room.

Gus worked with Charley on Charley’s last night. He’s also worked with Elbee and Stanley. With luck, he’ll be showing Henry the ropes.

This time of the year, I often head into the mountains for hope and healing. It’s been difficult with the rain, but that makes me appreciate it even more. The views are spectacular between storms and the wildflowers are bursting into bloom.

I always seem to find random notes of positivity too. Although that is technically graffiti, behind Henry, at least it’s a good message.

Speaking of graffiti, there’s a helipad on dirt Mulholland that’s covered with graffiti, some of it x-rated. The messages come and go but there’s one that has remained. Someone painted it after Kobe’s untimely death.

There’s another sort of March Madness going on right now… the NCAA basketball tournament. I wonder if they were having issues when they came up with that name.

ELBEE I think they were talking about crazy fans like her.

I am so glad to be ending this post on a happy note. After a nerve-racking game last night, the UCLA Bruins are going to the sweet sixteen!

Do You Get Paid for This?

Occasionally, when I’m at the hospital with one of the dogs, someone will ask, “Do you get paid for this?” Anyone who has worked with a therapy animal will tell you that there’s not enough money to equal the rewards it brings.

There are sudden smiles, expressions of happy surprise. There are hearty thank you’s and very quiet ones. There is the joy of watching the dogs take away someone’s physical or emotional pain, even if only for awhile.

Every patient visit can become a special encounter. Last week at Tarzana Hospital, Stanley and I were asked to see a twelve year old boy on pediatrics. As soon as he laid eyes on Stanley, he got so excited and said, “I thought this only happened on television.”

He had a look of wonder on his face the whole time we were there. He applauded Stanley’s tricks and laughed at his accessories as his delighted parents took photos. At first he was content to have Stanley next to his bed but then decided that he’d really like him up on the bed with him. As he petted and cuddled with Stanley, he reminded his parents how much he wanted a dog and how good he was with them.

The boy was so joyful. He really made the visit fun. That’s why it caught me off guard when his parents shared that he was having surgery in a few hours. I was so grateful that Stanley had been there to lighten the load.

When I was at UCLA, one of the therapists told me that a patient who had been discharged had left something for Gus. It was the same special needs young woman who, when she was in the neuropsych unit a few weeks earlier, had wrapped her arms around Gus and then carried his trading card everywhere with her.

She had written a letter to him. The printing was very difficult to decipher but certain words stood out. I could read, Gus” and “love” and “don’t forget.” She had told the therapist that she wanted to be sure that Gus would always remember her. She had also made him a tiny beaded ring that had the words “Gus” and “love.”

Music in the Mountains

There is so much music in the mountains. Some of it comes from me. I often sing to distract myself while I make my way up steep trails.

ELBEE That is not music. She’s tone deaf.

Actually, for me, the sounds of nature truly do create virtual music. Some mornings there are so many birds chirping, it’s like a choir. There are even some wild parrots in one of the canyons who lend their voices. Not to mention the ravens cawing overhead. I’ve always thought the loudest one was Elbee’s spirit animal talking to me.

ELBEE Then why doesn’t she listen?

Sometimes the birds soar so low that you can hear their wings flapping. I’ve shared that one time a hawk flew so low, it’s talons brushed my hair.

ELBEE Personally, I think it was looking for nesting material and got confused. Honest mistake.

The wind adds it’s own notes. You have to listen for the gentle breezes, but on a truly windy day it can be deafening. Since all of the rain, there is also the sound of water rippling in a creek bed that has been dry for years.

Recently, there was literal music in the mountains. I was heading up to one of my regular trails when I heard someone playing the guitar. It was Montana, a singer/ songwriter whom I haven’t seen since before Covid. He loves the dogs and was excited to meet Henry.

What are the chances that as I got closer to the top, I heard a keyboard. A young man was playing on an overlook, enjoying the view and hoping to meet other musicians. I pointed him toward Montana.

This week there have been two special notes. They are silent but add to the harmony. The first is the view of the snow covered mountains in the distance. Like the water flowing in the creek, it’s a rarity but an absolute gift. I’m only sorry for the residents who have to deal with the storms. I remember the blizzards in Syracuse.

The second was on March third, my late brother Stan’s birthday. Although he’s been gone over 25 years, his spirit resonates in me. Walking in the mountains that day, I heard some music that no one else could hear. It was the sound of Stan’s laughter.

A Break in the Clouds

This week I was planning to write a sweet, positive post but then everything went sideways again.

ELBEE Apparently she didn’t get the memo about a historic storm on the way.

It started raining Thursday night. The dogs had been walked and we were all snug at home so it was pretty cozy. It kept raining on Friday. Then the wind picked up and it looked like a hurricane. Tree branches were coming down everywhere.

Friday night at around 11:00 the power went out not to return again until Saturday at midnight. Oh, and in the midst of it all, I came down with a cold, first one in years. Good news is that it wasn’t Covid.

ELBEE She should have called this post “Whining.”

The dogs were the best therapy. They followed us from room to room. They curled up at our feet. At one point Stanley lay down next to me on the bed and gently rested his head on my chest.

There were only two problems with the dogs. The first was that they got soaked every time we took them out. We went through so many towels and had no way to dry them. My friend Mary, realizing the towel issue, even offered to drop off some extras.

The second issue was that, being part Poodle, the Doods barely shed but they do get knots in their hair if you don’t brush them out. I was their personal hair and makeup person.

ELBEE There was no makeup involved although it wouldn’t have hurt.

During breaks in the rain it was so clean and beautiful outside, it seemed the perfect time to take photos of the dogs.

ELBEE Told you she should have done makeup.

It’s also been very cold while all of this weather has been happening. I’ve been taking out warm clothes that I rarely get to wear. The only problem is that I still have the cast and bandage on my broken finger so it’s hard to fit into a lot of sleeves.

ELBEE Oy!

On the bright side, it led me to the back of my closet to find a very warm, very fabulous coat with wide sleeves. It was from my eighties glory days.

ELBEE There is a fine line between fabulous and frightening.

A Time for Love

With Valentines Day this past week, it was the perfect time for the Doods to be sharing their dog love. For me, there was also a note of nostalgia as I found old holiday photos of Charley and Elbee with “baby’ Gus.

ELBEE I looked strangely fabulous and ridiculous.

On Tuesday, Gus joined the canine cupids at UCLA. Several dogs, plus Blue Moon, a miniature horse, brought the holiday to the hospital. Dressed in festive attire, they delivered homemade cards, gifts and candy to patients and staff.

ELBEE Guess who helped herself to some of the candy.

The morning began with lots of chaos. Dogs and people were excitedly greeting each other outside of the hospital. There was a kissing booth. There were photographers.

ELBEE I don’t know how they ever got that photo.

The real magic of the morning began when we went up to pediatrics. Some of the dogs quietly visited with grateful staff. Others went into the rooms to cheer up young patients and their families. Everyone loved the festive cards and the gifts, but the dogs were the true valentines.

The next day Stanley did his regular visits at Resnick neuropsych. I’m always amazed at how quickly the mood lifts when the dogs walk in. What struck me on Wednesday was how much more the patients were interacting with each other while they were interacting with Stanley. In one of †he adult units, it led to a very positive group discussion.

ELBEE Don’t worry. The therapists keep an eye on her.

On Friday, Gus did double duty. He started the day at Tarzana Hospital. For the first time in weeks there were several pediatric patients who were not in isolation, so, to everyone’s delight, he was able to do bed visits.

Tired as he was when we left, Gus had one more job to before he could go home and rest. I was going to the wound care center to have my husband rewrap my broken finger and I needed a therapy dog.

It was a win/win. First, Gus kept an eye on my husband while he was working on my hand. Then he got lots of attention and love from the wonderful staff. I have found there is something about having a sweet dog with you that makes everyday seem like Valentines Day.

Hearts & Breaks

ELBEE I came up with that brilliant title. You’ll see.

This week, with Valentine’s Day coming up, and the dogs sharing so much love, I thought I knew what I was going to write about. I was further inspired by positive messages in the universe. I heard someone say that “harmony is different notes coming together to make things more beautiful.” I read an article that said “life satisfaction is dependent on warm connections with other people.”

ELBEE She thought her post would be a no-brainer.

Then everything went sideways. I was on a morning walk with Stanley and Henry enjoying the perfect weather. We greeted lots of people and even a few dogs. Then from a distance I saw a woman heading towards us with a tiny dog.

Generally, someone with a dog that size will pick it up if they think it may have an issue with two dogs, even friendly ones, who look like Yetis. The dog seemed okay until she got closer. Then out came a loud, high-pitched bark that only tiny dogs seem to be able to do.

ELBEE She was a soprano but not a good one. She will not be on AGT.

Stanley and Henry, assuming she wanted to play, began jumping around like goofballs. It was like two kids seeing who could get more attention.

STANLEY & HENRY Excuse us for being social.

Even the woman’s husband, who came up a minute later, said he could see how much they wanted to play. Still, I decided it was better to grab them and move on. That’s when it happened, I’m not sure how, but suddenly the back of my left ring finger felt weird. For the record I didn’t fall.

ELBEE Hey, old people fall.

As I was heading back to the car, with the dogs walking perfectly by my side, as if they knew, my finger swelled up and turned purple. To make a long story short, it’s broken, and apparently not the good kind of break.

ELBEE There’s a good kind of break?

On the bright side, I’m right handed (although I never realized how much I do with my left hand, like type), and it will heal with time. I also have three therapy dogs on call.

A Toast to Henry!

For some time now, friends who have met Henry and fallen for his charms, have been urging me to test him. Passing the Pet Partners certification would make him an official therapy dog. With a little extra training he could join his brothers working at the hospital.

ELBEE About time he got a job.

I’m not sure why I’ve been so hesitant. Maybe it’s because my journey with the dogs has been such a life-changing gift. I really want Henry to be ready when he walks into the hospital by my side.

It’s hard to believe that it began in 2006 with Charley, my first gentle giant. Thinking back over the years, there are countless memories that I am privileged to have even though some are difficult.

Charley was the source of comfort for a young schizophrenic girl whom he visited regularly in the neuropsych units at UCLA. After one extremely difficult encounter, when she had actually tried to kick him, she wrapped her arms around him and said “I’m sorry Charley. I love you.” Elbee reached another very disturbed young girl. When we arrived she was out of control, yelling and banging her head on the wall. Through the miracle of Elbee therapy she went from crying to kneeling on the floor teaching him how to do a trick.

Recently Stanley amazed me in the teen unit. As we were walking in, a few of the staff warned us that the group was very depressed. Looking in through the window, I could see what they meant. Within minutes, Stanley was sprawled in their laps on the floor getting belly rubs. Every single one was smiling.

Last week, as we were leaving, a staff member shared a very special story about Gus. A young woman who loved Gus was carrying his trading card with her everywhere. She didn’t want to let go of it for a minute. When they put Gus’s picture in a little frame for her, they had to make a copy so that she could keep his card close.

Now back to Henry.

ELBEE It’s about time.

Last week, I decided to go for it. I should mention that even though I have done the test more than a dozen times (the dogs have to recertify every two years) I still get nervous.

ELBEE She should also mention that we get scored separately and I’m sure I beat her.

Henry seemed at ease as we went through the process. He enjoyed the attention and he really liked the two volunteers who were assisting. I was so happy we’d done it. His story was about to begin.

There was one glitch on our way out. Joe Bruin, the huge UCLA mascot, was greeting everyone in the lobby. Henry, who had never seen anything close to that, would not even get near enough for a photo. Hopefully we won’t be running into him on our rounds.

Hallelujah! Our Internet Is Back!

I am not exactly a tech wizard.

ELBEE But she is the master of understatement.

To be fair, I grew up before technology had taken over the world.

ELBEE She didn’t even have a cell phone. Can you imagine?

I remember so clearly a moment in high school when someone stopped me in the hall and asked, “Did you hear the president died?” My response was, “What’s the punchline?” It was the day that Kennedy was assassinated. Now, shocking as it is, we hear that kind of news all of the time and we know it’s real.

The last couple of weeks have been a huge challenge. Everything seemed to go wrong. First it was our internet. I finally found out it was a neighborhood outage. I called AT&T so many times they probably had a sign up, like a wanted poster, to avoid my number. It took two and a half weeks but it’s back.

Then it was my blog. The link didn’t work for days. And for good measure, the other afternoon, the power in the house went out and then our landline died. Thank heavens I had therapy dogs on call.

To tell you how bad it was, the dogs had gotten so comfortable on the computer during COVID, I was desperate enough to wonder if they could do anything to help. They were more at ease on Zoom calls than I was. When a friend suggested giving Gus a shot, I thought, why not?

Fortunately, everything is up and running and the week ended on a very positive note. Gus and his new buddy Toto went to Olive View Medical Center to visit with the residents. Apparently, doing a residency now is just as stressful as it was years ago when my husband was doing his.

Sitting on a grassy area outside of the hospital, it was wonderful to watch the doctors interacting with the dogs. There was so much joy and laughter, you could almost feel them relax as they hugged Gus and Toto.

Everyone had their phones out for photos. I found this one to be so special. The matching smiles on Gus and the young doctor summed up the afternoon.

Then I noticed the shaft of light on the left and thought it might be Charley, my very first therapy dog, watching down.

ELBEE Hello! It was me.

Oh Henry

A few weeks ago, I wrote about making easy New Year’s resolutions. What I want to add is that you need to be flexible. There is no shame in dropping one or making it more user friendly.

Henry was the focus of two of mine. One seems to be going in the right direction. The other one, not so much. The resolution to bench press him may take a little more effort than I thought. I’m back in the gym, building up my strength, but to lift a dog that tall may be awkward.

ELBEE Oh and I suppose it has nothing to do with his weight.

The resolution to turn him into a certified therapy dog is going much better. I have taken him so many places recently and have used each one as a chance to work on his skills and his socialization.

His vet appointment was the perfect training opportunity. As soon as we walked in, he had to use a bit of self-control to keep from playing with the other dogs. The scale, where he weighed in at eighty pounds, was great for practicing his sit and stay.

ELBEE Bench press that!

In the small exam room, Henry, startled when the vet walked in, barked once or twice. After that, it was smooth sailing. Dr. Sanders was like his new best friend. Henry gave him his paw and looked into his eyes as if he had something to share. When Dr. Sanders took him into the back to finish his checkup, Henry pranced by his side.

I also brought him down to the wound care center where my husband works. The staff has been incredibly helpful in training Henry, and Stanley before him. The visit didn’t disappoint. Henry greeted everyone like old friends. He nuzzled them, sat for petting and posed for photos. It was a lovefest.

I was also fortunate enough to have the opportunity to bring him into the lobby at UCLA for a practice run. To be honest, I was a bit nervous. The lobby is huge, busy and noisy but my friends from PAC, who’d met Henry several times, felt that he was ready.

They were right! He mingled with everyone, had no reaction to the wheelchairs that passed by and even performed a trick or two. A few times, I heard the words that always warm my heart, “He made my day.”

To see Henry join his “brothers” Gus and Stanley as an official therapy dog would be, perhaps, my greatest New Year’s resolution ever.

Coming Together in the New Year

Thanks to my New Year’s semi-resolution to try and “get” football, I happened to be watching the Cincinnati-Buffalo game (my husband is from Buffalo) when 24 year old Bill’s player Damar Hamlin suffered a cardiac arrest. What struck me, as he was taken away by ambulance, was how everyone pulled together. Players and fans from each side hugged each other, united in their concern for that young man. There was even a spontaneous prayer circle on the field.

Lately, I have noticed a large number of television spots, and neighborhood signs, encouraging people to put aside their differences and reach out to each other. I’m not being naive and ignoring all of the divisiveness in the world, but that doesn’t preclude taking small steps in a positive direction.

I am so grateful that the Doods lead me in that direction. Part of what I love about walking with them is the way they draw all sorts of people to us. I will often end up in deep conversation with someone I might never have spoken to if I’d been alone.

This is especially true when we go into the hospital. Somehow the presence of the dogs allows people to open up. When Gus was at Tarzana Hospital on Friday, an elderly woman, in tears, shared how she had lost her dog to coyotes but now was hoping to rescue a senior dog or maybe even two.

As we were heading for the parking garage, another woman stopped me. She wanted to tell me how much it had meant when Gus visited her friend who had been a patient a few months earlier. Then she scrolled through her phone to show me a video she’d taken. Seeing Gus do his little dance and then cuddle with the woman on her bed, made my day.

At UCLA on Wednesday, Stanley lit up the faces of everyone in the neuropsych units as soon as he walked in. The younger kids and the teens laughed at some of his antics, like rolling over for belly rubs, then hugged him for comfort. A little girl who was crying because she missed her dog, wrapped her arms around him.

But it was in the adult unit that we had a moment that took me by surprise. Like the opening of this post, it also involved prayers. To the delight of the patients, Stanley “says his prayers.” He sits in front of a chair, puts his paws up on the seat, then bows his head. As he was about to begin, a young man asked if it was okay if he said his prayers with Stanley. I answered, “of course.” He bowed his head by the next chair and said, “God, thank you for bringing Stanley the dog here today. Amen.”

I say thank you for the privilege of holding their leashes as they bring people together.