Eli and Liz Hofreuter

Max

From Max she learned wisdom. He was the first dog for whom she cared. 

Eli: I had a neighbor, one of my best friend’s mother’s had died suddenly of cancer, and her husband, who I’d known since childhood, worked in LA which left his lovely, brilliant poodle home alone every single day.  I started walking Max for $5 a day. He became my best friend and my teacher.

With the heart of a curious child, Eli came to know Max. She witnessed his patience, his unconditional love, and his loyalty. She also saw that the kindness Max extended to Mr. Mack took him through the darkest of days after his wife’s death. Stalwartly, sitting near him, asking for very little, and patiently offering his love, Max walked her neighbor, and Eli, toward healing.

Eli, has a superpower. She appears as if summoned by some silent bat signal. No matter the gravity of the challenge you face, she shows up when no one else does. She is loving and patient and kind – giving you exactly what you need when you cannot even articulate it for yourself. I know. Lying in a hospital bed two days after my son had died, I was handed the phone. I heard Eli’s voice on the other end. We didn’t talk long. We didn’t need to. She validated my immense pain and offered unexpected, unconditional love. I sobbed when I hung up that phone and continued sobbing as I packed up my few things to drive home for the funeral. She may or may not have been wearing a cape. Of that I cannot be certain. It was only a phone call, but life saving nonetheless.

As is the case for all superheroes, there is also kryptonite. For Eli it is alcohol that had its grip on her. She lived a life of high anxieties since her first memories and found alcohol as the vehicle for self-medication. Confronting that disease landed her in a world where her bionic skills could serve others. She discovered a community where the great equalizer was the very challenge that brought them to their first AA meeting1.

Eli: People are there as a community to get well, stay well, to lift each other up, to support each other, and do it mainly through our foibles and our humor and the fact that we can celebrate being alive and in the moment. It was just so incredibly wonderful for me. 

Before then, her life had been a series of sprints. And she was a good sprinter. She could wait until the last minute to finish a project…in fact she thrived in such a place of high anxiety. An all-nighter was an energy source.  To face this demon, however, would require the skills of a marathoner. For that she needed a support team.

Eli: My life is no longer a sprint – no longer moving through obligations and tasks. The thing about getting sober is that your brain will play games on you, saying, ‘Look at you. You made it two weeks without a drink. You deserve to celebrate with a drink.’ This cycle will repeat and repeat and repeat until you’ve lost your governor and you have absolutely no confidence that you can ever accomplish anything again. So you don’t even try. I deemed myself unemployable. I stopped working, and I kept myself safe, and I didn’t lose anything since I had nothing to lose. 

By getting into a community of people you find a purpose to wake up every day with the support and accountability of friends who will embrace you regardless of it all… we’ve all been there. All anybody wants for someone in an organization like that is the safety and care of their members.

You can’t have community if people don’t participate. It’s precisely the people that do come back after falling down to show people that it isn’t about perfection. It’s progress, not perfection. And it’s been a beautiful experiment. It’s allowed me to understand my real purpose, which is to take care of those around me.

I started with the little things, retooling my life into structure, retooling my life with caring for animals, getting involved with the idea of unconditional love.

That doesn’t sound like a little thing at all – unconditional love. I am quite certain most people love with conditions. Not Eli. Afterall all she has faced, Eli is a caregiver. Not just to her aging parents, which is one of the most challenging responsibilities I have ever known, but also to many of her friends. The dogs taught her how to show up. It started with Max and from that she just started nurturing other dogs in her neighborhood. Through the animals she became dear friends with all of her neighbors, who welcomed her into their lives. There she found another community.

Eli: I had very wonderful relationships with the dogs and then with the dog owners, which is a different level of intimacy and understanding of someone as a human being.

The dogs didn’t judge or criticize – they simply offered their whole hearts, asking nothing in return but her presence and affection. Meeting their “people” through their beloved companions had a unique way of softening the edges, making them more relatable and approachable. It’s as if the pure, unconditional love of a dog has the power to draw out the best in the rest of us. Eli does that. Her daily routine finds her making phone calls every morning to three or four warriors who have battled back the disease they all share. A disease for which the only cure is honesty, humility and community. 

Liz: Can you hear yourself? You are such a profound leader within your community.

Eli: Oh, thank you, Liz. I try to live through example, not in an arrogant way, but just reminding people you can always find community and support. I mean, the only way to do this is with people that understand. You don’t get it unless you get it. It’s a disease of the body and the mind, and the spirit. And it is genetic. 

Liz: But it’s not about the disease or the diagnosis of an underlying condition, is it?

Eli: Not at all. It’s about the person.. the humanity of the person in front of you. And I’m telling you, you’ll find the most amazing people. They’re just the most brilliant, creative people you’ve ever met in your life…honest, hilarious, humble. They say some of the wisest things you’ve ever heard. It is a joyous environment. 

Liz: It sounds like our world could use the philosophy of some AA meetings these days.

Eli: Absolutely. At the end of the day, it’s getting outside of yourself and giving back through your own honesty. That’s nourishing for your soul. Strange, but I get my biggest reward through being able to find love and humor in the most horrendous things.

It will come as no surprise that our friendship hasn’t been a straight line over the past 35 years. We lost touch at times. I didn’t know about any horrendous things that have happened. I heard tidbits of Eli’s life from other roommates. I heard at one point she was a dog walker. I had experienced far less pain at that point in my life, so I had far less wisdom. I say that because I accepted that fact – dog walker – on face value. I didn’t ask further questions. I didn’t pick up the phone and call her. It is accurate that Eli started to rebuild her life by walking dogs, but the truth is that she took her first step forward with the most accepting partner she could – Max. And they walked. There was no need to sprint. At that slower pace Max revealed his wisdom to her and she found purpose in following Max’s lead in how best to care for others. And when Max got cancer, Eli walked him home.

Eli: Max shared his love with me when I couldn’t love myself. And Max. Max took care of me, actually. I was happy I could return the favor.

Look for the helpers, Mr. Rogers reminded us. In our horrendous moments, look for the helpers. If you are as fortunate as I am, you will get a call from Eli. She will show up. It’s her superpower.


1 If you or someone you know has a problem and you would like to know more about Alcoholics Anonymous, visit www.aa.com.


Liz Hofreuter

Founder GEN-Ed

Not your typical researcher or consultant, Liz connects lived experience to transformative leadership. To uncomplicate leadership and education, every story matters and she is just getting started.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *