My dog just woofed down a good book
By MATTERS BY JACK NEWORTH
Back in the ‘70s, Ocean Park was at the center of the nationwide skateboard craze. The area was known as Dogtown, as seen years later in a documentary narrated by Santa Monica High School alumnus Sean Penn, and in a 2005 feature film, “Lords of Dogtown.” These days the entire city could be called dogtown as Santa Monica is experiencing a doggie boom. We have more than 5,000 registered dogs and who knows how many illegals have crossed the border. Whoops, sorry, for a second I thought I was writing for Lou Dobbs.
Actually, I don’t own a dog, I just walk my neighbor’s as she is disabled. And among Oscar’s more human activities, he reads books, or rather, they are read to him by kids in a police afterschool program, “America Reads.” Oscar’s a seizure alert dog who can smell a seizure hours before it comes on so his owner can take meds. In the past I’ve written about our run-ins with Animal Control, “A Rebel with Four Paws,” and “Oscar’s Big Day in Court.” Almost every night around sunset I ride my bike while Oscar trots alongside... I’m Burgess Meredith and he’s Rocky.
Since the dawn of time, give or take a few millennia, dogs have brought joy to humans, unless, of course, you deliver the mail. Anatole France said, “Until one has loved an animal a part of one’s soul remains unawakened.”And it’s true, dogs may have a place in our hearts greater than for our fellow humans. A poll from Hurricane Katrina revealed the images that were most wrenching were of the helpless pets. Iraq war protesters, myself included, might be more persuasive focusing how many pomeranians have perished, or poodles, or whatever is the most popular dog in Iraq.
My friends adore Oscar. In 2003 — hopefully the statute of limitations has passed — my friend Margie was due to have surgery at Saint Johns and begged me to bring her buddy Oscar for a visit. Reluctantly, I agreed. And so Oscar had on his blue and yellow medical dog vest as I nonchalantly sauntered past St. John’s security. Suddenly we were stopped by a female doctor who barked — no pun intended — “You’re late!” The nonchalance was over. She assumed Oscar was the therapy dog who was scheduled to visit the hospital.
So I found myself tip-toeing with Oscar into the hospital VIP room of a total stranger who was a doctor and rather ill. The room was decorated to look more like a home. The walls were floor to ceiling bookcases with a built-in TV. His grateful wife grilled me how long had I been a dog trainer. I almost said,“Oh, about 10 minutes,” but went with,“Uh, not that long.” I’m not terribly religious, yet I found myself praying: That the real therapy dog wouldn’t show; I wouldn’t be arrested for impersonating a dog trainer; and Oscar wouldn’t chew on an IV tube.
To my relief, Oscar laid his head on the bed and the elderly patient petted him. Not pressing my luck, I got out of there as quickly as I could. I was perspiring so profusely that as I got up my T-shirt had stuck to the chair but no one seemed to notice. And of course, only minutes later in Margie’s room, Oscar chewed up a plastic cup.
“America Reads” takes place every Wednesday at the Police Activities League Center in front of Memorial Park at 1401 Olympic Blvd. There are an average of 10 kids, from kindergarten through the third grade, three volunteers and two certified therapy dogs — Oscar and Randi, a female cocker spaniel. The kids read a page of their favorite story to the dog, who if you didn’t know better, you’d swear was listening.
If you’re interested in enrolling your child, or if you have a Delta Certified Therapy dog, contact Eula Fritz at (310) 458-8988 or e-mail: The kids’ smiling faces and the dogs’ wag-ging tails will do your soul good. And if you’re connected with Saint John’s, Oscar is sorry about the plastic cup. (Jack Neworth is a freelance writer who, when not posing as a dog trainer,)
Originally published in the Santa Monica Daily Press print edition on August 25, 2006. Read the original PDF.