03/11/2024
Well, we didn't get another spring with Lola the Portuguese Water Dog. It brings me great sadness to inform you that she crossed the rainbow bridge in January. I just haven't been able to say anything about it until today. My tongue was tied. I first met Lola and her wonderful human back in 2016. It was a beautiful sunny day, and we crossed paths on this little bridge tucked behind Main street in the west end of downtown.
I remember like it was yesterday. She stopped in her tracks after seeing me with the pack, and asked for my contact information. She saw how happy my pack was, and wanted it for Lola, who wasn't getting as much socialization as she was able to in her formative years, leading to reactive behaviour. Which continued for a while in the pack, until she learned to trust her new friends here. Slowly but surely, over the years, the snapping at others who got in her space subsided, and I always knew that one day, she would start to play with others. Trust me, I'd always say... The day is coming.
Took years, but it finally happened, and the reactivity ceased to exist. Lola didn't care about catching the ball while playing fetch or anything. She just wanted to run along with the others as they fought tooth and nail for it. I love that about this job: watching dogs like her blossom before my very eyes. Soon, Lola was wanting to greet every dog she seen on her walks with me, and her Human, who was so appreciated of the work I did with her. Lola had transformed into a social butterfly once again.
Human became the biggest supporter of me and my business. From buying me my first business cards when I was broke as hell, making the transition from dog walker to daycare provider, to helping me fund the turf here (and far too much to type in between). She is the sweetest, kindest, most generous woman I think I've ever met, besides my own mother. Over the years, we grew a wonderful friendship, often chatting forever on drop-offs and pick-ups. I could tell her anything, and she always had great advice for me and my business. I vented to her often, and she did the same. We sometimes argued, as friends do. Especially when it came to politics and social issues. But it was always respectfully. Sometimes I told her things she didn't want to hear, and even made her cry once in the process. I also shed tears in front of her more times than I can count. But we laughed so much more.
That's why this one was such a tough pill to swallow. Not only did I lose a wonderful dog, and a 5-day per week client, I feel like I've lost a rock, who's been there for me through thick and thin. She paid me the same amount each month, no matter how many days she kept Lola home. I could always count on her, and those funds, on the first of the month. She treated me like gold, and I did her - I don't think I ever said no to a single request.
She always made me feel precious - a valued employee you'd never risk losing. As a small business owner in the gig economy, she knows exactly what it's like for me. She gave me a feeling of stability, knowing I'd always have her support with whatever and whenever. And when Christmas came, my jaw would literally hit the floor opening that envelope, seeing the fat stack of cash she would joyfully gift me, along with a handwritten, heartfelt, thank you for all I've done and continue to do for Lola. Those envelopes only got thicker as her business flourished over the years. The more she got, the more she gave.
We're still friends, of course, and we'll probably stay connected forever. But our interactions are few and far between now, and I miss seeing her as much as I do Lola. I still get up at 6:30 each morning, even though I don't have to, and sometimes I forget they aren't coming -- it's crushing. This job is something else. You become a little part of every family of every dog you care for.
Thank you, Human. For everything. I'm sorry for your loss. I'm sorry she hung on so long, and made us both hurt so much watching her wane away, and get reduced to diapers. Those last few weeks were absolutely heart-wrenching. She hung on so long as I knew she would, and you can't blame her, living with you. Lola lucked out, and wound up with the best Human a dog could ever ask for. Rest in peace, my sweet, dear, Lola. I know heaven has plenty of sun for you to bask in, and lush, green, real grass to roll on until her heart's content. ❤
PS: Oddly enough, she messaged me to see how I was doing just as I was finishing this post up. As if she somewhere knew, I was balling my eyes out thinking of her and our four-legged friend.
What a blessing to see Lola the Portugese Water Dog getting her roll on again during the 'false springs' we've had thus far. It's really her favourite past time here on the turf, or any patch of grass really. Especially at Grandma's house from what I hear.
She's 15 now, and we've had quite a few health scares. But she keeps bouncing back. Each time, I've assured her Human that I didn't think it was her time yet - a gut feeling. And that dogs who are loved as much as her will surely 'rage, rage against the dying of the light'.
Here's hoping for yet another spring / summer with the lovely and sweet, Lola the Portugese Water Dog.
