Today, our family sadly bids farewell to our beloved dog Lola. Those of you that have been regularly following FSB, or have read my book Warbler’s and Woodpeckers: A Father-Son Big Year of Birding, will be familiar with Lola, but to honor her memory, I’d like to share her remarkable story in more detail.

The beginning of that story will always be shrouded in mystery. We adopted Lola thanks to the always-heroic and compassionate efforts of the Humane Society of Western Montana, and Braden’s sister, Tessa, was the driving force behind adding Lola to our family. For a couple of years, Tessa had gently expressed a desire to have another dog. Amy and Braden were on board, but I hesitated. For one thing, I knew that since I work at home, I would be the main caretaker of any new mammal in the household and I wasn’t sure I felt ready to add that responsibility to my list. Honestly, saying goodbye to our previous dog, our Border collie Mattie, had taken a huge emotional toll on me. Many people don’t hesitate to get a new pet when an old one has passed, but not me. I grieved long and hard for Mattie, and wondered if I were ready to invest so much of myself into a new companion.

Nonetheless, one afternoon three years after Mattie passed, I asked Tessa, “Hey, do you want to start checking out the Humane Society website?”

Her whole face brightened. “Really? To look for a new dog?”

We both thought that a black Lab would be perfect for our family—affectionate, but active enough to go on adventures—and about once a week, we searched the website for possibilities. Black Labs are so popular that a number of them became available, but each had some quality we thought would make them a poor fit for our family. One day, though, I was looking at the site by myself when Lola popped up on the screen. HSWM estimated she was about two years old and she had been found in Polson, Montana nursing eight puppies!

I immediately called HSWM to find out if Lola was still available and got put through to the director, who actually knew me from some of my past author events. “Well,” she said, “Lola isn’t officially available yet because she and her puppies have been in quarantine for distemper.”

“Oh, is that serious?” I asked. I had heard of this disease but knew nothing about it. “It can be,” the director replied, “but Lola and her puppies have come through just fine. I’ve been keeping them all at my house, but if you’d like to see her you could come out this Saturday.”

Immediately, my devious mind began imagining surprising Tessa and Braden with a visit to see Lola, and Amy agreed that it would be a fun idea. The night before, I told the kids, “We’re going on a little outing tomorrow morning.” “Where?” they asked. “Oh, just somewhere fun,” I said.

I’d like to claim that I stayed mum until we actually saw Lola the next morning, but once we climbed in the minivan I weakened and told them where we were going. “We’re going to see a dog?” Tessa asked. I’d rarely seen so much excitement in a kid, and a big smile also spread across Braden’s face. That excitement only increased when we pulled into the director’s long driveway and saw a slender black Lab trotting ahead of the director, returning from a walk.

“Is that Lola?” Tessa exclaimed.

“I think so,” I said.

We parked near the house and all piled out. The director had warned me that Lola had some issues with men, so I just sat down on the blacktop next to our car and waited for her. Without so much as a growl, she trotted directly to me to receive a vigorous helping of head pets and back scratches. As Amy and the kids approached and also began petting her, none of us had any doubt that this was our dog and that we were her family. With the director’s blessings, we took her home that day.

I’d like to tell you that from that moment on, Lola’s integration into our lives was pure, smooth sailing, but . . . that’s not quite the case. HSWM believed that Lola had lived totally on her own for most of her two-year existence, and not surprisingly she came with some baggage. Almost from our first walk, we discovered that she viewed most adults with suspicion, and she reserved a special repertoire of warning growls and barks for tall men, skateboarders, bicyclists, and anyone carrying any stick-like object, be it a cane, broom, or baseball bat. It didn’t take a genius to conclude that in the past she had endured some hard treatment at the hands of people. It also meant that we had to be especially careful taking her out.

After a number of tense incidents, we finally booked some sessions with a dog trainer. These made all the difference, and steadily we were able to teach her to become less reactive to most of the kinds of people she found threatening. Steady doses of love and affection from Tessa and the rest of us also helped build up Lola’s trust in humanity.

Meanwhile, Braden and I were doing our first Big Year of birding, trying to pursue our personal goal of finding 350 species of birds for the year. We easily worked Lola into our birding adventures, whether it was up the Mount Jumbo Saddle, out at Fort Missoula, Blue Mountain, or Maclay Flat.

It was during these adventures that we noticed something surprising. When we were out birding, Lola just naturally switched into “work mode.” She seemed to recognize that birding, like hunting, was a serious activity and part of her job in life. During these sessions, Lola proved amazingly responsive, obeying our commands without complaint. When we stopped, she stopped. When she smelled something, she paused in a classic “point”, one front paw frozen in an up position until we she saw us moving on. In this way, she became not only our newest family member, but Braden’s and my “birding dog.”

During the next eight years, Lola accompanied our family on countless adventures—and led us on some that were strictly her own idea. She had a particular passion for chasing invasive squirrels and re-opened some of our local habitat for our native squirrels to move back in. I also brokered a deal between Lola and our neighborhood deer. In this U.N.-sponsored agreement, Lola was at liberty to chase the deer to the edge of our yard, but then had to halt—a deal to which she generally adhered.

To be honest, she wasn’t that great at locating birds for Braden and me, but she did find Braden a gorgeous Dusky Grouse once and, last year, rooted out some Gray Partridges from the grass in the hills near our house. She was under strict orders not to try to catch any birds, and I think she was fine with that. Squirrels were much more fun!

We thought that Lola would be part of our family until she was at least fourteen or fifteen years old. This spring, when we learned that a lump in her mouth was an aggressive oral melanoma, we were at first shocked, and then devastated. Dr. Nicole, our wonderful vet at Pruyn Veterinary in Missoula, removed as much of the tumor as she could, and told us we could elect for radical surgery combined with taking her to Bozeman for radiation treatment—but also said that probably the cancer had already metastasized, limiting chances for success. We did end up doing two more lump “debulkings” to keep the tumor from preventing Lola eating and enjoying life, but mainly vowed just to give her the best remaining time possible.

From then on, we tried to do something special with her every single day, whether it was taking her on one of her favorite hikes, down for a swim at McCormick Park, or to Dairy Queen for a “pup cone.”  It was truly a special time for all of us, but by about three weeks ago—three months after her diagnosis—I could tell that Lola’s energy was waning and that the cancer had probably spread to some of her vital organs. Finally, when our girl was obviously beginning to struggle and her appetite decreased, I made an appointment with Dr. Nicole for a home visit.

On our final morning together, we all took Lola for a pup cup at Starbuck’s and then drove out to a local pond. Lola always loved car rides and I could tell she loved this one, especially surrounded by the rest of her pack. What’s more, at the pond, she actually went for a couple of little swims and joyfully chased little splashes we made with rocks while we alternated between laughs and tears. After hanging out at the pond, we took Lola home for lots of cuddles and a nap. As happy as she’d been at the pond, I could tell it had used up her reserves. Overall, we couldn’t have asked for a better last day with our dear sweet dog, and as Dr. Nicole eased Lola out of this life, we had no doubt that she was ready to say goodbye.

Alas, we are not ready, and will be grieving and remembering her as long as our own lives last, always grateful for her joyful, crazy presence in our lives. As a friend of mine once related, we buried Lola not in the ground, but in our hearts.

We encourage you to donate to the important work of your local Humane Society chapter and/or support both national and local animal welfare groups such as the ASPCA, Feeding Pets of the Homeless, and Dogster’s Spay & Neuter Program.