Lee died during the height of the pandemic, which the philosopher, Jonathan Lear, refers to as “the year of isolation,” long months before a vaccine was developed. (See https://news.uchicago.edu/why-mourning-essential-our-well-being-jonathan-lear.) It was a time of unprecedented uncertainty about our future. Everyone felt it.
Not coincidentally, the pandemic also created unprecedented demand for animal companions. Suddenly breeders were being swamped with inquires for dogs. The competition for canine companions was fierce, indeed. I experienced this firsthand in finding Lola, my beautiful English Labrador.
The breeder announced that she would only consider written requests detailing why the candidate felt deserving to be considered for one of her latest batch of new pups. About a week after I submitted a heartfelt letter setting forth my case, the breeder notified me that she was holding a female pup for me.
Thereafter I traveled to the breeder’s farm in central Ohio to retrieve my retriever. Lola’s American Kennel Club registry identifies her as Lola Zinfandel. I came up with Lola; Zinfandel is the name of the Ohio farm where she was born.
I used our palatial Indiana estate, Deer Tick Manor, as a convenient overnight way station to break up the long drive home. The next morning I let Lola outside for an exploratory frolic. However, when I spotted one of the large resident hawks –one with hungry fledglings in her large nest to boot — giving Lola the eyeball, I reckoned it was time for us to make a beeline for Lola’s new permanent home in the City.
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Lola has been all I could have hoped. She’s sweet and gentle, playful and fun, loves a good stick. Lola is smart, mostly obedient, a natural swimmer, and an excellent companion whether we’re home or on the road. She is loved by most everyone in our neighborhood. Kids and grownups will stop by simply to say hello to her. Some will bear tasty gifts.
It’s no exaggeration that Lola helped sustain me during the hard days and months following Lee’s death, and throughout the isolation of the pandemic. Now we’re family. Lola even has managed to win Robyn’s heart, no easy feat. I wish that Lee could have met her.
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Last Friday, July 28th, was Lola’s third birthday. She enjoyed a delicious soup bone. Today, in her honor, I dedicate these excerpts from my inaugural contribution on this site:
“On July 2, 2020, the cancer took my ‘Beebs. The photo of me and Lola the pup that accompanies this piece was taken on the road in September 2020, the day I picked her up from her Ohio breeder. There is a backstory, as follows:
I had said to my buddy, ‘You’re being a contrarian,’ and ended our phone call. And he had been a contrarian, throwing cold water on my notion to get a dog and thereby dousing the small excitement I had felt that same morning after my latest internet search culminated in a conversation with an Ohio breeder– one who actually had puppies available! Until then, I had not felt any sense of excitement for the future since my wife died a little over a month ago.
Well, my buddy says: ‘Why do you want a dog? You’ve never had a dog. You’re a cat person. It’s too much responsibility. You can’t travel easily. You’re too old.’
Maybe his comments were fair; they were certainly logical. However, today they mostly stung and disappointed, and I reacted angrily, saying, ‘I don’t want to talk anymore,’ and abruptly disconnected.
If I hadn’t I would have reminded my buddy that he still has 4 adult kids, numerous grand kids, and likely more in his future. My buddy still has his father, who, as he is always quick to boast, remains physically vigorous and in full possession of his mental faculties at the age of 90. And my buddy is lucky to have enjoyed nearly 50 years with the wonderful Donna. Donna still has her own mother, of course, who this year made 95, bless her! Donna also has adult siblings, and they all have kids. Given these circumstances, my buddy, who has raised German Shepherds for nearly as long as we’ve been friends, could feel justified to inform me that he is through with dogs.
Yet, my own case was materially different. Most importantly, my wonderful Lee was gone, our loving and fully committed partnership cut short by cancer. Cancer also had cheated Lee out of the well-earned retirement she long had envisioned for us, which, truth be told, I had found myself rapidly warming to, despite being gainfully employed in a good paying and cushy job.
We never had kids. My own family is quite small.
Oh, and there was this pandemic that had been raging for nearly 6 months with no clear end in sight. Even so, while Lee was still in the world we gratefully and happily journeyed together through this life, Lee radiating her love, guiding our way. Suddenly I felt lonely a lot of the time.
But here’s the thing: I have many friends, including a fair number of the life-long variety, certainly, my buddy and the wonderful Donna included. My own family members seem to like me. I’m by nature an optimist and remain so even now. I’m self-confident. I remain physically vigorous without, as far as I can tell, significant slippage of the mental gears.
So I remain grateful and feel luckier than many, if not most, yet the calendar reminds me that I will be 70 within the next calendar year. And I don’t think I’m being either melodramatic or doomsday bleak to note that my once bright future prospects may have dimmed a bit over time. Inevitably, the past casts a lengthening shadow.
So I was left to ponder the BIG QUESTIONS: Am I destined to die alone? Why shouldn’t I get a dog?”
