Of Grief and Gratitude: Saying Goodbye to Lola

Tonya and Lola, photo: Tonya Perme

Lola was at least 13 years old, far exceeding her large breed life expectancy. Over the last few years, we had navigated various health issues, and I kept a close watch on the ratio of good days to bad days. There were a few days I didn’t think she would make it through, but she’d always bounce back the next. 

Her quality of life was my main concern and, in recent weeks, I realized that even the quality of her good days had drastically declined. But it had snuck up on me, the same way the moon changes ever so slightly each night and suddenly it’s full again.

Making an end-of-life decision is an agonizing responsibility. There’s no one right answer. Every situation, person, pet, and health issue are unique. It is personal. The space between the intellectual thoughts and the emotional feelings is a very lonely place. 

There were discussions ad nauseam. Based on her quality of life, I had pretty much wrapped my intellectual side around the fact that the end was near. Or here. But my emotional side had a much harder time accepting it all. Was it too early? Was it already too late? Was I being weak? Was I being strong? Was it selfish? Was it compassionate?

As I lay on the floor of the vet’s exam room with tears streaming, looking into Lola’s eyes, my feelings swirled like an emotional tornado. But also in this moment so many people - family, friends, clients - came into my mind. As we share a collective love for these critters, so, too, do we share a universal experience of loss. I felt their support. 

If you are reading this, you have probably felt this same sadness yourself. And if you haven’t experienced it yet, you are likely right now loving some creature so much that you, too, will someday pass through this storm of grief and gratitude.

photo: Tonya Perme

In the moments of Lola’s last breaths, I felt her relief. I felt her spirit become free of her achy, failing body. At the same time, the worry and agony I had carried for so long about making this decision left my own body. I thanked her for choosing me in this lifetime, for her trust in me, and for her unconditional love. Surrounding my sadness was so much gratitude for all she had given me.

 Good girl, Lola. Good girl.

I spent the days after Lola’s passing going through the digital archives covering 12 years of photos and it was wonderful and enlightening.

I realize that I hardly recognized her younger self as the same dog I knew in recent years. I saw how much her vibrancy had dulled and realized that she held on for me. This helped me accept that it was time and that I did the right (albeit heartbreaking) thing… even though getting to that place was agonizing.

I am also able to see that she had a long, fun, adventure-filled life. To be honest, Lola was a complete nutso in her early years.  We bonded deeply through our training, behavioral work, and trail adventures.  I had carried a small voice of doubt through the years that she deserved better, but I see now that it was a good life that she had. She was happy and loved me deeply. I loved and appreciated her for who she was.

Even though this experience of loss leaves my heart feeling vulnerable, it also fills my soul with gratitude because, to quote author Susan David, life’s beauty is inseparable from its fragility.