Lola and Lucky

Yeah, so already we're back on the chain gang of dog ownership. I didn't think it would be so quick, but I always knew deep down that there were more dogs to come for us. I am a "dog person" and knowing that there are so many homeless, unloved dogs out there kills me. So I knew we would open our hearts again.

Lucky the puppy came to us about a month after Luke passed. If I already blogged on this skip ahead and read about Lola. Anyway, we were in a PetSmart looking for a ramp for Rumer because she was having so much difficulty getting in and out of the car for her vet appointments. While there, a man came in holding this incredibly cute puppy and as we were ooohing and ahhing over it he told us we could have it, that someone had abandoned it in the parking lot and he had found it under a bush, shaking in fear. So we figured it was destiny, kismet, fate, whatever and we took the little guy home - now that I think about it I believe I have blogged on this already. Damn middle aged brain.

About a week after Rumer passed away, we took a trip to a place in Ennis, Texas called Camp Wolfgang http://campwolfgang.org. Camp Wolfgang is semi-famous in the DFW area because it's founder, Wally Swanson, was apparently a very wealthy, hotshot Dallas lawyer and mover-shaker before he chucked it all to rescue German Shepherds in honor of his beloved Wolfgang. His Wolfgang passed away of almost the exact same thing as Luke (tumor in front of the heart) at almost the same age, 8. So I had read about Camp Wolfgang in the past and had from time to time browsed their website marveling that so many wonderful, beautiful dogs could wind up homeless. So we drove up there on a Sunday, Lucky puking in the backseat (the dog gets carsick like you wouldn't believe). There were over 200 dogs there waiting for a home. Trying to pick a dog under these circumstances is daunting to say the least. The girl who worked there, Ashley, advised us to take a female since Lucky is a male (not for much longer, I say) and she took us around and showed us females in the age range we were interested in. I didn't want to go over 3 years of age and was really looking for something in the 1-2 year range. We ended up choosing two dogs for a "meet and greet" to see how they acted with us and interacted with Lucky. The first dog was kind of hyper, which is to be expected in these circumstances, but she didn't really "grab" us. The second dog clearly wanted to eat Lucky so she was ruled out immediately. We were going to leave as we didn't come with the expectation that we'd be taking a dog home that very day. Ashley mentioned Holly, who I didn't remember. She took both my husband and I back to the kennel where Holly was housed. I had overlooked Holly because she was 4, maybe older, and that was beyond my age range. But my husband wanted to meet her so we brought her out. Amid the chaos of 60-70 dogs barking and jumping and carrying on, Holly was cool and calm. She didn't bark; she didn't lunge; she just followed us calmly to the field. She got on well with Lucky and my son was able to hug and touch her right away while she sat very calmly (and rather regally) by his side. So we brought her home and renamed her Lola. She didn't respond to Holly so I don't feel bad changing her name. And she's named after the tranny Lola of Kinks fame, not the showgirl Lola of the Manilow song. We don't do Manilow. Anyway, she's worked out great. Her only problem seems to be a blazing case of "leash aggression" directed at other dogs which we are seeing a trainer and having her evaluated for tomorrow. She was supposed to start obedience classes on Thursday, but I think she's going to need private lessons first lest she scare the shit out of the other dogs and owners in class. She is sweet as can be but can look pretty fearsome when she wants to.

Having the two of them has been a balm for our hearts. There are still days, just about every day, actually, where I miss Rumer and Luke so bad it's like a physical pain in my body. For years everything has been "RumerandLuke". It was like one word. Now it's Lola and Lucky. You can't help smiling watching the two of them, especially Lucky or the "tiny terror" as he's been nicknamed. Though he's not tiny at all. Last vet visit two weeks ago, he was nearly 30 pounds at 15 weeks. He's gonna be a bruiser. But he's a goofball with a tenacity that I don't think I've ever seen in any other dog. He's like the Terminator or something.

Lucky and Lola; Lola and Lucky. Has a nice ring to it...

R.I.P. Rumer (March 15, 1993-October 9, 2007)

We got Rumer in April, 1993 when she was six weeks old and eight pounds. She was a mutual anniversary gift. I named her Rumer after Demi Moore's kid, yeah, shallow, but it was a unique name. I never knew another Rumer other than mine and Demi's. When she first came home to us, she wouldn't eat so my husband would sit on the floor and hand feed her. I knew then that he would make a great father, even if I didn't want children. Rumer was my child; the surrogate child for the woman who never, ever wanted kids. Turned out the future had different plans for us, but hey. When we lived in Birmingham and later Fairfax, Virginia, Rumer's best friend was our best friends' dog, Nikita. Nikita was a Siberian Husky and very beautiful and we all got a lot of joy watching the two of them play to the point of exhaustion.

Rumer was supposedly a registered German Shepherd and we paid a breeder in Jasper, Alabama $200 for her. Quite obviously, she is not 100% GSD, but she had all the traits that make the breed so popular. She was powerful, loyal, loving, defensive of her home and her people and just an all around great dog. She didn't like kids, but like I said, we weren't planning on any so that was ok, too. When we did have our kid, Rumer accepted him into the pack from the first day he came home. I have pictures of me sitting in our oversized chair, cradling my baby, with Rumer practically wrapped around my shoulders looking down at him, too. I have lots of pictures of the two of them laying nose to nose on the carpet, too. She never so much as looked at him funny. She loved him and defended him from the beginning. When Luke came along, she accepted him as well and they became best buds.

Rumer lived a great 14.5 years - that's really old for a shepherd and she had great quality of life until about the last week or so. Letting her go was the hardest thing I've ever done, even harder than Luke, I think. We had her twice as long and she was a link to the person I was before I was "mom", maybe the link to what I think of as my truest self.

The grief of losing two devoted companions in such a short time is sometimes overwhelming. It feels like being knocked over by a giant wave and pummeled at the bottom of the sea until you aren't sure you're going to come back up. But you do; you break daylight and swim like hell for shore. Some days you make it to shore and it's good. Sometimes you make it and you just lay there exhausted by the effort. Sometimes you get knocked over again right away and dragged back down to the bottom. I know it will get better with time, but right now that wave keeps coming and sometimes it's so hard it literally knocks the breath out of me. I almost had to run out of the grocery store this afternoon because of some stupid song playing on the store system. But I bulled through it.

We are starting over again. Having Lucky dropped in our laps was a good thing, I think. We knew we wanted a companion for him so we have already adopted another dog. These guys in no way replace the beloved Rumer and Luke. They are just the next generation. Two good dogs who needed good homes and love and we have both, so now they are becoming part of our family. I know Rumer and Luke approve. I know that Rumer has introduced Nikita and Luke and they are all playing and running and doing everything they love to do but couldn't do on earth anymore.

Dreamin'

I dreamed last night that my 14.5-year old shepherd, Rumer, was young again. Her face wasn't white anymore and was the same orangy-tan color as the rest of her body. Her body was lean and strong and she leapt and played like she used to. She is in kidney failure refusing most food except for hot dogs and McDonald's cheeseburgers. Morgan Spurlock she isn't so she can't continue much longer on that magnificent diet. Her rear legs give out on her more and more and frequently her front legs cannot be trusted either. It will not be long before she is frolicking with Luke on that fucking rainbow bridge.

On a lighter note, we do have Lucky. Lucky was indeed one lucky pup. He was abandoned in a PetSmart parking lot on a day that we happened to be there so he got to come home with us. I really felt fate had plopped him in our lap to ease the pain of losing Luke and the inevitable loss of Rumer. There are days when I believe God himself is delivering divine punishment upon me for some long-forgotten sin I committed. But we are lucky to have Lucky and he is Lucky to get us, too.