birthday girl

Guess who is turning FOUR today???!! This girl!!

Her, not me. Obviously.

Have I ever told you the story about how we got Lola? No? Well, pull up a chair and grab a beverage. This won't take long, promise.

In early 2008, Matt and I wanted to get a dog. I have had dogs my whole life, 90% of them being miniature/toy schnauzers...aka SMALL DOGS. I like small dogs. I know what to expect with small dogs. I know how much the vet bills of small dogs cost. I know how to train small dogs. I know how much small dogs eat. I wanted to get a small dog.

Matt had never owned a dog. Therefore, that made him completely qualified to determine that he only wanted a big dog, or potentially a huge dog.  Doesn't matter how much they eat. Doesn't matter how much they shed. He wanted a big dog.

So we argued discussed dog breeds for about a year. Neither of us wanted a medium dog, of course. It was all or nothing. So there could be no agreement or compromising. We were waiting for one of us to cave in.

But after enough time went by, we finally both agreed that we JUST WANTED A DOG, dangit. And so we decided that we would simply go to a shelter or Humane Society or something and pick a puppy (we agreed that we wanted a puppy) (and that we wanted to adopt a probable mutt, versus buying from a breeder or something) that we both loved and that was of indeterminate breed...the idea being that we would be in love with it no matter WHAT size it grew up to be in the future. It was a totally solid plan.

We picked Lola because she was tiny and black and furry and so ridiculously cutely adorable that we died at the thought of NOT picking her.

 She was part of a litter, and they were about 8 weeks old. They estimated their birthday to be around July 11, 2008. Someone had found the litter (and the mother dog) locked in a toolshed, and all of the dogs were apparently crawling in ants. She was missing little patches of fur and had scabs all over her tiny soft belly, even by the time we adopted her (after she'd been in a foster home for several weeks). We pledged to love her and cherish her and never, ever let ants anywhere near her again. Poor sweet little baby.

The people at the Humane Society thought she might be some kind of terrier mix, which leads me to conclude that they had never seen a picture of a terrier before.

So we didn't really know what she was, but we suspected some sort of lab mix...didn't matter anyway, though, because after about 10 minutes with her, we were completely smitten. You could have told me she was a dragon/bear mix and I wouldn't have batted an eye.

She was adorable and 100% puppy and obedient and surprisingly easy to house train. She has NEVER learned to walk like a normal (subservient) dog on a leash, though. Doesn't matter. Love her anyway. She sheds everywhere. Don't care. She weighs between 48 and 52 pounds: far larger than my "small dog" ideal, and smaller than Matt's "large/huge" dream. Turns out, 48-52 pounds is absolutely perfect for both of us. Who knew? 

She absolutely loves me. I am her favorite. When I sit on the couch, she literally sits ON my feet. When I go to the bathroom, she sits next to the toilet. She follows me around and comes to me when it's storming and she's scared. She likes Matt too, but let's face it-- she's a mama's girl. (Except when it's time for a potty walk. Then she's alllll Matt's.)

We love her so much and are so thankful we never agreed or compromised on a certain kind of dog...because then we wouldn't have our "Lou"!

If you have made it this far, I applaud you. And I suspect it's because I kept the pictures puppy-centered. Who doesn't love puppy pictures?? Grown up lab-greyhound mix (likely what Lola is, btw) pictures? Meh. Puppies? OMGIDIE!!!!!!!!!!!!

Anyway, Happy Birthday Lola, since I know you're probably sitting at home, dragging your stupid toys all over my clean house and reading blogs as you gaze out the windows and wonder how hot it will be later and whether we might take you to the dogpark for your birthday (yes). Thanks for being the best doggie ever!