Lolo

I love the beginning of Lolita. Do you know it?

Lolita, light of my life, fire of my loins. My sin, my soul. Lo-lee-ta: the tip of the tongue taking a trip of three steps down the palate to tap, at three, on the teeth. Lo. Lee. Ta. She was Lo, plain Lo, in the morning, standing four feet ten in one sock. She was Lola in slacks. She was Dolly at school. She was Dolores on the dotted line. But in my arms she was always Lolita. 

 If it weren't so creepy, it would be the perfect mantra of one so in love with something that mentally conjuring it is a pure pleasure in itself.  That is how I feel about my Sophie (minus the creepy sexual overtones!)  124 pounds of pure, drooly, sweet, doe-eyed love.  My Sophie, Sopha, Sopha-lu, Sophalo, Lolo.  The kindest, sweetest, gentlest, trustingest dog ever.  Oh, I love all the animals, but Lolo is special.  She melts hearts with those eyes, and having her head in your lap is all the therapy you'll ever need. 

She had surgery this morning on her cruciate ligament, which mysteriously tore a few weeks back.  We held off, hoping it would heal on its own, hoping that light walks and gentle treatment would restore her to her loping, goofy joyful self, but no.  She still came exuberantly to greet us at the door, but holding her right rear leg aloft, ignoring her pain long enough to greet us and to steal a sock or a shoe before bounding back to her spot on the couch.  Every once in a while, you could see it pained her.  We decided when Speedy returned from El Salvador to take her to the best canine knee surgeon in NYC and have it repaired. 

Of course I was terrified that something would go terribly wrong.  Such a big dog, but so delicate.  She is the one who almost succumbed to hemalytic anemia, but for our persistent ministrations of love, herbs and medications (not to mention the nightly 2 a.m. walks that lasted the entirety of an icy NYC winter.)  She is the one who messes the house if the dog food is under- or over-cooked.  She is Lolo, just-so.  So to have her undergo anaesthesia and surgery was beyond scary.  Speedy scheduled it quickly and I didn't give myself time to think too much about it.  This morning she went in, and just now Speedy called me to report that everything went well and she is recovering as hoped. 

Now I just want her back.  I know she is scared and lonely in a strange vet's office, no familiar smells, no couch, no hidden store of balled-up socks to remind her of us.  Tomorrow morning we get her back, my Lolo. 

God I am going to be a wreck with a child, won't I?

P.S. "Easy" (the Akita) is doing well, and expected to find a good home.  And I got an update on the mastiff we helped out a couple of months ago:  Now weighing in at almost 100 lbs., he is pure muscle and a great, loyal, loving dog to an owner who is worthy of his affection.  These things make it so worth it.