IN MEMORIUM

This has been a tough week, but one that has taught us a powerful lesson in courage and inspiration.

Monday of this week we lost our dear Louise, or Weezie as she was affectionately known. She was not only the inspiration for part of our name, Weezie & Rumble, but more importantly, our beloved Golden Retriever whose soul, wisdom, spirit and kindness were felt by all who knew her.

Louise came to live with me about 9 years ago, an unexpected inheritance from casual friends who could no longer care for her in addition to their growing family. The story goes that Louise was a shelter dog, having been dropped off by some passerby who found her running loose on the streets with her sister. Both dogs were taken in by the shelter and named Thelma and Louise. There is no record of what became of Thelma, but Louise eventually was adopted by my friends, who looked after her until she was about 4. That’s when she came to live with me, changing my life in unforeseen and immeasurable ways.

I had been dealing with a series of monumental personal losses that left me reeling and I struggled to regain some normalcy in my life. There wasn’t much good to report during those tough days and sleepless nights but being an eternal optimist, I started thinking of ways to turn loss into something positive that would renew my sense of hope and purpose.

Casually mentioning one day to my dearest friend Sunny that I was thinking seriously of adopting a rescue dog, I unknowingly set the wheels in motion. One thing led to another and when Sunny discovered that our mutual friends were looking for a good home for Louise, a perfect match was made.

Following a very brief period of adjustment, Louise took to me and my equally-friendly Tabby cat Chester. We became a little family and suddenly my house didn’t seem so quite and empty anymore. Her love of life, enthusiasm and sense of play inspired me and all who met her. When I think back to her many adventures I still laugh out loud. The shoes she loved to hide (but never chew), the way she would dig in her heels anytime we had to get in the dreaded car, jumping on the furniture when she thought no one was looking. She was free-spirited, hilarious, intelligent and, most of all, a purveyor of unconditional love.

Louise went to her reward on Monday with grace and dignity. Never once did she complain, howl, whimper, growl, bite or show any outward signs of pain or suffering. It was only at the very end, when she was too ill to continue on, that we knew it was time for her to find peace. As she slowly drifted away from us Monday morning, we comforted her and reassured her of our love for her; she knew we were there and that it was okay to leave us. We were, and are, grief-stricken, heartbroken and overwhelmed with a sense of profound loss. But in death, as in life, Louise still showed grace, courage and nobility that left us speechless. We can draw strength and inspiration from her sense of purpose, love of life and innate ability to bring out the best in all who knew and loved her. For those gifts, we will be forever grateful.