Loulou left the planet on the day after Thanksgiving. She was a very special being. Early last Fall, Loulou became more and more picky about her food. But she seemed fine otherwise -- affectionate, spirited, demanding and profoundly silly. (Why did she like walking around with a big weed stuck to her face??) I finally took her to the vet because she was losing weight. The doctor told me, after a sonogram (or some kind of “gram”), that Loulou had a very inflamed liver and pancreas and had two days to live. Yikes! Two days! But not to worry!
Apparently Loulou had not heard the vet’s prognosis and continued to be her lively self, although she did stop fetching the ball. As always, she completely dominated Nikki, and he happily followed her around. After a week or so, someone at the park said to me, “I hate to break it you, but your dog’s not dying.” Heidi and Betsy, my neighbors and fellow poodle aficionados, urged me to get a second opinion. So I went to my old vet, who told me Loulou was “very very sick.” He never used less than two very’s when he talked about her and made it clear that he couldn’t promise a recovery. BUT we could have this and that test and give her these and those medications and inject her with subcutaneous fluids every day and maybe… maybe… She was still enjoying her life so much! How could I refuse to jump into the deep pool of large vet bills?!? (I still have very ambivalent feelings about this decision.) Thus began the frantic search for food and treats so delectable that they would entice Loulou to stuff herself and gain weight.
Do you have any idea how many dog treats are available in San Francisco?
Not only pet stores sell them, but every drug store and supermarket. And they all have different ones! In the beginning, if she was enthusiastic about a particular treat, I would buy 10 bags of it. But, after a day or so, she would always turn up her nose at her current favorite goody. And the search for the ambrosia of the doggy gods would rev up again! Suffice it to say: I will not have to buy dog treats for the rest of my life. All this time, I had a housemate, Jeff, who was my full partner in the care and feeding of dear Loulou. He adored her too. I am so grateful that Jeff was here to share the experience. It made a huge difference to me. Not to mention that he ended up doing almost all the subcutaneous fluid injection. Meanwhile, Loulou’s energy stayed high. This dog really enjoyed her life. She gained a little weight. Hooray! The lab tests came out a little better. Yes! Everything seemed to be moving in the right direction, although not very quickly. Okay! Jeff and I can keep this up! And then the morning after Thanksgiving, she was suddenly wobbly. She laid down on the living room rug, with her head up. Her eyes were open, but she wasn’t responsive. She seemed to be focused on what was going on inside her. Nikki was freaked out. He would come over and poke her with his nose, and then go back to his couch and whine. I made a desperate attempt to get an emergency appointment with a vet, any vet. Fortunately, I couldn’t find one, because she laid her head down and died a couple of hours later. A vet visit would have been pointless, and getting there would have probably been very painful for her. Not having a car, Jeff and I walked Loulou to the vet the next day to have her body cremated. Jeff carried her wrapped in a big blanket.
The day after, I went to visit a big nursery in the East Bay with my friend Tara. I wanted to plant some lavender in memory of my dear pup. I had always thought of her as a princess, because she obviously thought of HERSELF as a princess. In fact, she was an ALPHA princess.
Would you believe one of the lavenders available at the nursery was named Ghostly Princess? Believe. So Tara drove me home with all my lavender, and when Loulou’s ashes came back, Jeff planted five Ghostly Princesses in the garden, with Loulou’s ashes mixed into the earth. So ended Loulou’s visit with us. She and Nikki had met at the tiny neighborhood park nine years ago and instantly bonded. They played in the same rough, snarly way. I called it "snarl-and-sneeze" because an intense bout of snarling always brought on the sneezing. One morning at the park, Loulou’s owner told me she had to find a new home for her, because she was going to be traveling for three years. Would I take her? I had to really ponder that because I’m a one-dog woman. But Loulou and Nikki were already such good friends. I had to do it. From the beginning, Nikki adored Loulou and was completely submissive to her. Loulou led the way! And that’s how things SHOULD be in a lesbian feminist household. The first few days after she died, Nikki seemed whiney and confused. And the first time he had to get into a car, he simply could not figure out how to do it! He was so used to following Loulou. I had to lift him up and shove him in. But now he’s fine. If he’s being petted or out for a walk, he’s happy. And he's remembered how to get into a car. Nikki and I are getting accustomed to life without our Alpha Princess. And I have to admit, it’s a little easier. There’s no one to interrupt my conversation with a neighbor to demand I keep walking. No one to grab the cheese I foolishly left near the edge of the counter. But life also has fewer laughs. I nicknamed her Poodle of Mystery, for her delightfully silly habit of liking a curtain hanging over her face. Poodle of Mystery, wherever you are, we love you and miss you.
Left below: Loulou and Nikki cuddling with Jessica Right below: The bride is ready, but the groom is taking a nap. | 
