Whatever Lola Wants, Lola Gets

The words belong to a popular song written by Richard Adler and Jerry Ross for the 1955 musical Damn Yankees. I often felt my furry friend was aptly named. I moved to a new area a couple years after my husband died. New neighborhood–new pet seemed like a great idea.I had lost my lovable Chocolate Lab the year before.,My four granddaughters who lived closest to me helped me choose a pup. They and then I fell in love with Pug puppies we saw on the internet. We picked up a chubby ten-week-old Pug that became my constant companion. Lola was perfect for me. She was funny and loving and loyal. I got used to her being wherever I was in the house and later in an apartment. She comforted me with her snuggles when I left an unhappy situation and she kept me busy and occupied when I was lonesome during the early days of the COVID pandemic. Lately, typical of older pets, Lola spent more time sleeping, only occasionally moved to play with her toys. But she never lost her love of people. Extremely social, she would drag me toward people I didn’t know outside my building with her tail wagging, and seemingly saying “Hey, I’m here! I’d like to get to know you.” She could be annoying with her television habit. She would react and bark at any animals on the TV. Once she aged to around 11, Lola became deaf so trying to quiet her during her TV watching was difficult. I took her to the Emergency Vet Hospital on Sunday because she was having difficulty breathing and her abdomen seemed distended. She fell over in the dog yard and could walk only a few steps and would lay down, completely spent. She ate and drank normally even then. In the hospital, the ultrasound showed a tumor which seemed to be in her spleen. There was to be a further scan of some sort the next morning and possible surgery if the growth was confined to the spleen. At thirteen, she had been strong, but I knew I would have a difficult decision to make. At three a.m. she ate chicken and the staff said she seemed more comfortable, but at the next check–she was gone. Lola was a stubborn girl. I think she heard talk of surgery and thought, “Nope, not doin’that” She died on her own terms and took away my problem of deciding her fate. For that I have to be thankful.

I am so sad and nothing looks normal in my home. Without her toys, her dish, her bed. All who have ever lost a pet know what I’m talking about. I thank God for the 13 years and 3 months of her life which blessed me every day. Rest in peace dear Lola.