Now you don’t.
It happened in a flash. We picked Lula up as a pup in Eureka Oregon, eleven years ago. The task was to ferry her back up to Vancouver Washington to a person that was to be her foster. That person had a conflict and couldn’t take her immediately, so we happily obliged keeping her for a bit longer. That bit longer turned into forever, because we fell in love with her immediately. We were doomed to fail.
The service responsible for the coordination handles blind dogs, mainly. Lula was allegedly blind. Most people looking at her would be excused for thinking she was blind. To the untrained eye, the lids being folded under, scratching her cornea causing them to weep would be convincing. Our vet knew pretty quick that it was correctible. The correction was performed, and Lu could see. It was that effective. One moment she couldn’t see, the next moment, full vision. What a miracle.
Then the years ticked by. We were together as a family nearly everyday. If we could take her on trips, Lu was in the car with us. Portugal was obviously a non-negotiable. Those two weeks were the longest we were ever apart.
It’s been one week now, since we said goodbye. Our home is missing her energy. We feel it. Bolt and Jax both miss her. Cindy and I miss her. It’s excruciating some moments.
We had grown accustomed to seeing her first thing every morning, because she’d come over to the bed and whack it with that big front paw to wake us up to let her out. Later in the evening, she would let us know she was ready to go to bed, and therefore, we were all ready for bed. That’s all a memory now, burned in.
I love you Lula. I always will.
