However, my sweet girl is not a show girl and is not the muse of Copacabana. This is the story of my beautiful, rowdy, life-giving, human-loving, loyal and beloved, Lola.
One evening my husband yelled from our front porch to come get our 6 month old mini golden-mountain doodle because he needed to rescue some puppies across the road (and some in it). My animal loving, overly caring human alarm bells went off and I sprang into action. I ran to the front porch, grabbed our dog, and watched my husband go quickly to my father’s house, grab his golf-cart, and push the gas to cross the street gathering puppies as he did. He found our neighbor, who had no idea the puppies had gotten away from their mother. Together with his young sons, they all corralled eleven eight week old puppies. We had a small fence that we were able to gift him until he found homes for the lively, dirty rascals. Our neighbor was grateful and invited us to visit anytime we wanted. My husband came home, glowing in his hero status, and asked me and our daughter if we would like to go see the little cuties.
Anyone who knows me knows that I can’t visit animals and not want to rescue them all. This is why I can’t go to shelters, be a foster pet mom, or visit a pet store on adoption day. I actually had just had a conversation with my husband and my friends about wanting to turn our farm land into a hospice for farm animals (along with dogs, cats, any animal in all honesty) so that they would have a place to be loved into death if their owners were unable to carry the load that entails. Not realizing until after I started talking about this, I already do this with humans in the hospital. I love my job, however, my real heart is in loving animals on all facets of their journeys.
I recalled a memory of my favorite puppy that was an abused lab-pit mix who was terrified of humans. I felt my patience, my gentle calm, and persistent love brought her out of that fear (at least with women) to allow her a better home than mine after loving her for 2 years. I also thought about all the dogs, cats, horses and chickens I’ve loved over the years. I even rescued a baby robin, as a little girl, and nourished it back to health for it to fly away when it was able. Why I am not a vet I don’t know! The most painful loss I have experienced was holding my Tibby in April 2020, as his well-loved, aged body died in my arms. I had a plan to call my animal hospice “All God’s Creatures.”
I digress. When asked if I wanted to go a see the puppies, I replied, “no.” My husband and daughter stood in a moment of disbelief. I said no because I knew that if I went to see the puppies I would leave feeling deeply concerned, probably cry and want to bring at least one home. I explained this reasoning, however, after more encouraging, I relented my strong stance and went. When we arrived, and I saw those tiny muddy faces and dry noses, I knew I was right. I should have stayed home.
I fell in love with every puppy there, their momma, and I noticed that there were ten and one was missing. I had been told there were eleven. The runt of the litter had been hiding under the small storage shed and my husband climbed under to get her. She was emaciated and limping. I just knew she was going to die, due to an injury or malnutrition. The siblings also picked on her. Long story short, I went home and I cried that night. With the stress and helplessness I felt with my daughter, and the helpless and hopelessness I felt with administration in my job, I saw myself in that puppy. I projected myself onto her. Because I knew my husband’s stance, I knew I couldn’t rescue her and I felt I couldn’t rescue myself. I cried myself to sleep that night. Heartbroken. Helpless. Alone.
Over the next couple of weeks the puppies were adopted out and she remained. She began to get stronger and fight for herself and I had hope she would find a home. I even prayed someone would love her the way she needed and deserved. Our neighbor saw how much I already loved her and hoped we would take her home. After some convincing, and an angry spouse for a bit, she came home with me. I was cautiously optimistic.
My husband’s reservation to bringing home this puppy, other than he didn’t want another dog, was her breed. His fear was that she would become too much for our calm, low key lifestyle and she needed a job to do. She’s a Border Collie mix. At the moment, we have no animals to herd. Having grown up with Border Collies, I knew their energy level and their need to work (ours would herd my brothers, me and our friends in the yard as we played tag football, climbed trees and explored the neighborhood) and they always had more energy than us some days. When I got this sweet puppy, I made a promise to myself and to her that she was going to be my walking/running buddy. I knew that I needed to get out of the slump of stress and depression I was in and I knew that physical exercise has always worked for me in the past.
Nature and the outdoors restored my spirit always. I erred on the side of not putting all my stuff on this girl but I had hope that she and I would continue to heal ourselves together. She acclimated relatively well to our family, our home and our other puppy. I let my walls down gradually with her and I have fallen in love with this precious little runt puppy. As I was thinking of and making my goals for my 42 year, I made one to consciously walk/run with my girl at least 3-4 times a week. I didn’t want to be too lofty because my work schedule is very unpredictable and I didn’t know the nights I would have to work. I knew I needed to fulfill my commitment to her and myself.
For the last three weeks we have walked at least 5 days out of the week (due to my work schedule) and they have been life giving to say the least. Lola has brought a joy to my life and an ability to be where I am in myself and know that’s enough. I look forward to continuing this growth and bonding relationship as we not only explore the neighborhood and land, but go camping and other adventurous things.
Lola got her name because every time I’d go to visit her and her siblings the song, Copacabana, would play in my head and I knew she was a Lola. She’s one smart and beloved dog and I look forward to doing life and adventures with her. For Lola, I am deeply grateful.
The Journey Home 