There's a feature on Facebook called "On This Day", that shows you every post you ever made on that day for as many years as you've been posting. It's interesting to me because I realize certain themes that I repeat, I get to think about what I meant by certain cryptic posts, what my state of mind was, and what I didn't know then that I know now. Like, I look at posts that were clearly about my failing job hunt, and I think, "Hang in there - you have no idea what's in store for you".
Sometimes, though - you're reminded of things that suck. Like today. Five years ago today, I had to have Lola euthanized. The other day, I had that late night flash of "I forget what Lola was like."
Here's what she was like though. She was stubborn as hell. As a puppy, she didn't eat much, and was prone to vomiting - that lasted about a month.
She loved to go for a ride. She was a good little passenger. She would sit in the front seat and lean against the window. Or me. She liked having the window down a little. She would sleep on longer rides.
She loved tennis balls. Dad called her, "Ball Nutty". We could go on a walk somewhere, and she'd find a ball under a pile of leaves or wedged in the dirt. She could conjure a tennis ball up out of nowhere. She liked rawhide. She would chew the middles out of a bone and leave the end knots. I had piles of end knots. There are probably a few end knots still hiding in the house in some random drawer, cabinet or corner.
She had the worst damn skin problems. She had allergies you wouldn't believe. Her last four or five years, she lived in a cone. I hated that, but it worked for her, and at the time, I couldn't afford an allergist.
She adored Matt. When we were dating, she would go nuts whenever he got to the apartment. She would jump up on his lap and wag her tail. She always got to greet him first, then me.
Lola didn't like kids. I don't know why. But as she got older, she stopped getting worked up over people, and she was pretty chill.
Petting her was always nice. She liked it, and she felt good. Her ears were the best. She liked having her hindquarters skritched, because she was so itchy.
Lola loved the mountains. She was born there, of course. When she went up, she would chase tennis balls, bound around the field, and run up and down the creek for ages. She loved water.
Matt and I took her on a canoe trip with us one year. She was great. We didn't know if she could swim, but as it turns out, she was like an otter. She swam, she rode with us, she did great. She was so tired at the end of the day, when we set up camp, she collapsed under a picnic table. Even when we put a hot dog near her, she just kind of ate it, and went back to sleep.
When Lola got ticks, she got them on her brown spots. Always. Once, we took her to this biking/hiking trail in North Carolina, and when we got back to Nashville, I discovered she had gotten a tick. And her tick had a tick. No shit. That was some kind of disgusting.
She and Piper are nothing alike. She and Piper are everything alike.
She prepared me for losing Dad. She was a good friend, a great dog, and I can't believe it's been five years.
But it has.
Aw, Roo-Roo. I'll mourn ya til I join ya.
Sometimes, though - you're reminded of things that suck. Like today. Five years ago today, I had to have Lola euthanized. The other day, I had that late night flash of "I forget what Lola was like."
Here's what she was like though. She was stubborn as hell. As a puppy, she didn't eat much, and was prone to vomiting - that lasted about a month.
She loved to go for a ride. She was a good little passenger. She would sit in the front seat and lean against the window. Or me. She liked having the window down a little. She would sleep on longer rides.
She loved tennis balls. Dad called her, "Ball Nutty". We could go on a walk somewhere, and she'd find a ball under a pile of leaves or wedged in the dirt. She could conjure a tennis ball up out of nowhere. She liked rawhide. She would chew the middles out of a bone and leave the end knots. I had piles of end knots. There are probably a few end knots still hiding in the house in some random drawer, cabinet or corner.
She had the worst damn skin problems. She had allergies you wouldn't believe. Her last four or five years, she lived in a cone. I hated that, but it worked for her, and at the time, I couldn't afford an allergist.
She adored Matt. When we were dating, she would go nuts whenever he got to the apartment. She would jump up on his lap and wag her tail. She always got to greet him first, then me.
Lola didn't like kids. I don't know why. But as she got older, she stopped getting worked up over people, and she was pretty chill.
Petting her was always nice. She liked it, and she felt good. Her ears were the best. She liked having her hindquarters skritched, because she was so itchy.
Lola loved the mountains. She was born there, of course. When she went up, she would chase tennis balls, bound around the field, and run up and down the creek for ages. She loved water.
Matt and I took her on a canoe trip with us one year. She was great. We didn't know if she could swim, but as it turns out, she was like an otter. She swam, she rode with us, she did great. She was so tired at the end of the day, when we set up camp, she collapsed under a picnic table. Even when we put a hot dog near her, she just kind of ate it, and went back to sleep.
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| Canoe Trip Trio! |
When Lola got ticks, she got them on her brown spots. Always. Once, we took her to this biking/hiking trail in North Carolina, and when we got back to Nashville, I discovered she had gotten a tick. And her tick had a tick. No shit. That was some kind of disgusting.
She and Piper are nothing alike. She and Piper are everything alike.
She prepared me for losing Dad. She was a good friend, a great dog, and I can't believe it's been five years.
But it has.
Aw, Roo-Roo. I'll mourn ya til I join ya.
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