Lola's Story

The Arrival

We were finally moved in. We spent about three months working on the farmhouse before we moved in. There were some minor renovations we made, some demo of a few corners, adding hardwood to the dining room and painting near every corner of the interior. This house was becoming our home.

Shortly after moving in, I distinctly remember driving home from work one fall evening. The sun was to my back and as the golden hour kicked in, I could see our kids running around the back yard, playing and carrying on as kids do. I recall saying to myself, they need a farm dog.

Over the next few months, I would periodically stop by the animal shelter to greet the dogs temporarily taking up residence there. This would be my first dog purchase of my life and I wanted to ensure that the dog and I had a good connection. So, I kept this up for a few months, stopping in to see who was there.

One afternoon, I stopped by the shelter yet again to make my rounds. While most of the dogs are energized by new faces in the kennel, jumping and barking rather loudly, this dog stood out. There, lying down and cowering in the back of one of the kennels was this timid, black and white haired, Aussie-collie mix. Her name was Delilah. She lay in the back of the kennel, not barking, not making eye contact. She was obviously scared, and while she ignored my attempts to connect, I figured I would try again on another visit.

I stopped in weekly for another three weeks to seek-out this Aussie-collie dog. And on my third visit, this gal finally started to respond to my attempts to connect.

I would approach the cage and call to her. She looked me in the eyes, responded to my voice and agreed to join me for a brief walk around the yard at the shelter. It was on this walk that she began to sniff, pant, and even wag her tail. In addition to those changes, to my surprise, she responded to a few simple commands. She sat for me and even shook my hand. I was shocked.

It was the next day, Saturday, I took Jaci over as I wanted to introduce her to this dog that I had already bonded with. She was skeptical at first, but when she was able to spend a little time with her, she began to see what I already knew. This dog was about to be adopted.

We ran home to get the kids and all piled into the farm truck. On a quick drive back to the shelter, we filled out some paperwork, introduced the dog to our kids and brought her home.

I knew the name Delila wasn't going to stick, so after a few rounds of sharing ideas, we collectively landed on Lola.

L-O-L-A, Lola.

La la la la, Lola.

?

Testing Boundaries

Lola was so very timid. We arrived at the farm, and it took a long while for her to welcome any attention from us or kids. I recall the warning on her adoption papers, informing us that she was not good with kids or other animals. However, on these repeated visits to the shelter, we had come to disagree with that designation. We were cautious and careful with her, but without question, Lola was going to get along just swell.

It’s important to share, Lola didn’t bark. She didn’t move quickly, and she behaved as though she was fearful of everything. We got her a doghouse and a 30 ft lead as we wanted her to be able to move about freely but didn't want to see her leave our property just yet.

I recall training her to mind our property line. I’d take her for walks around the property, making two or three passed before returning her to her house and run. She loved the walks and again, slowly began to get comfortable with our farm.

After a few more weeks of this, we were ready to test her resolve to live the unleashed life. We never intended to cage her in. She was intended to be a farm dog and roam our country block. So… it was time to test her.

I recall taking her for a walk round the property before having her sit and unleashing her. As I took the leash off of her collar, she stood up and we began to walk around the property once again. She got a few feet ahead of me, and as she realized she was free, she bolted off into the field at an incredibly fast pace. She. Was. Gone.

Fearful that I just lost our family dog, I walked in her direction calling to her, “Lola. LOOOO, La. Come on home.”

She didn’t return. I feared the worst.

To my amazement, about an hour or so later, Lola returned to our farm. She came back into the yard panting, and smiling, and approached her doghouse looking to rest from her run. I was so relieved. I put the collar on her, and we went back to the previous lead + walking routine for the next week.

The following week, we tested her once again, and on that second lap removed her leash. When she felt the release of the leash, she bolted off in the opposite direction of the previous week, and once again… she was gone.

Again, Lola returned to the farm later that afternoon. Having done this twice now, we were finally reassured that while she may dart off in any given direction, she was able to navigate the terrain and knew that this was her home. So, we no longer kept her on the leash. We trusted her to run off and return as she needed, and we had confidence that she would always return.

Finding Her Voice

With each passing day, this dog grew closer to us. She learned that it was safe to approach us, would timidly receive our words of praise and slowly began to sit nearby for ear scratches and conversations. Her confidence grew and so did her personality.

Slowly, she began to chase the other animals around the farm property. We have free-range chickens, goats, hogs, a pet pig, and barn cats. The chickens and cats come and go as they please, and Lola made a game of chasing them. She would spot one unsuspecting creature, leisurely taking a stroll across the yard, and without warning, she’d give chase. I’m sure that her chasing put the fear of God in the poor cat or chicken playing her game. Over time, the cats began to play. They knew she wasn’t going to harm them.

Then it happened. It was the first time we heard her. Lola was chasing one of those critters and let out a “Ruff”. This was the first time she barked. She had not barked before, not when she was in the kennel, not when we visited, nor when she arrived home. Lola was a bark-less dog. We suspect that she was scolded for barking in her first few years of life. However, now that she was free to behave like a dog, her dog-like characteristics began to return to her. Lola had found her voice.

And did she ever bark! Lola became quite a doorbell. That was great. It wasn’t a violent bark, and friends knew not to be fearful of her. That was a primary concern of ours. Yet, if an uninvited visitor happened onto the property, she did a good job of making it known that this was her home. Some were timid to exit their vehicles and that added a measure of safety to our home.

In addition to the pronouncement barks, Lola found her second bark. Anytime an emergency vehicle would pass on the highway, Lola would join in, howling in her own tune, perhaps trying to get some karaoke in, or perhaps empathizing with the emergency being attended to.

A Foreshadow of Fate

There were few complaints when it came to this dog. I am aware that she irritated one of our neighbors. She definitely outgrew that shy persona that she had when we brought her home. Her life goal had quickly changed to making-friends and finding ear scratches from everybody. That irritated neighbor didn't want her lurking around, but others indeed did. In fact, one neighbor actually put out an extra water dish and food bowl for her. They loved her like she was their dog too. It was sweet.

Despite all these good traits, Lola had one habit that was alarming. In her attempt to behave like the herding dog that she is, she would give chase to anything that moved quickly by the property. As said, she would give chase to cats, chickens, deer, opossums, bicyclists, and diesel trucks.

When it came to diesel engines, she barked incessantly at both truck and driver. She also attempted to put her nose on the bumpers of the those vehicles as they went up and down the road. We didn’t like it, but she was always quick to to stay away from the front bumper and run beside the vehicles. Yes, it was unnerving at times, but that's what she did.

The Fall

As the story goes, Lola finally met a truck that got the best of her. She chased after a delivery truck and somehow got out in front of it.

I don’t know that anyone witnessed the accident, but Lola let out yelp that was a different sort of cry. My daughter was upstairs at the time and when she peered out the window, to her horror she let out a scream, followed by “Lola has been hit. Lola’s hit!”

We all rushed outside to see what had happened, and there lying in the road was our precious farm dog.

I wasn’t prepared for what I saw next. Lola actually jumped up onto all fours and hobbled off the street. While she was upright, she had a saggy rear end and her face shown signs of injury.

The most difficult moment, however, came when I turned to see the delivery driver. She had exited the truck and was standing beside the vehicle, experiencing some rather heavy trauma before collapsing on the ground herself. She was a tear-ridden mess. This was trauma. And while I wanted to run to the dog, I could see that this woman was in emotional pain equal to the physical pain that our dog was experiencing.

We consoled the driver for a moment, and then I left her to tend to our pup.

The woman was trying to call dispatch to let them know that she had an accident, but she couldn’t find her words. Her sobs were deep. She handed me the radio, and I began to speak with the operator.

“Yes, hello. This is Tobe. Yes, the driver just hit our dog and she doesn’t know what to do. It’s evident that this is extremely hard for her, so I think she wanted to report in and let you know that she’s stopping here for a moment.”

The operator answered, “Thank you sir. We are so extremely sorry about this. We will send a supervisor out immediately.”

Working Through Grief

When the driver’s supervisor arrived, he was extremely gracious and apologetic about the entire situation. He checked on my family, attended to Lola, spoke compassionately with her and offered anything needed to administer care to our dog.

Accompanying the supervisor was a team member from the HR department. That individual stayed with the driver of the vehicle and attempted to console her. It was certainly a hard moment, and quickly became evident that there was much more going on with this driver.

The supervisor explained that this particular driver has had a very challenging life. That did not come as a surprise. In fact, the gentleman used these words, “We’re not really sure what to do for her right now.”

That was a green light for me. I recognize that there are so many things thrown at people, and while they come with good intentions, there is a spiritual gap that exists with far too many, and when we attempt to fill that gap with physical or material things, we’re left empty and often feeling without hope.

I approached the driver and asked if I had her permission to pray over her. She didn’t even know how to respond. I don’t know that she had been prayed over before. She locked eyes with me and said, “Please.”

I wasn’t sure what she needed, but I knew WHO she needed. I called on the Lord to comfort her heart in a way that she had never experienced before. I told her that God sees her, He knows her, and He loves her. I prayed that He would bless her, that He would turn his face towards her and give her peace.

She gave me her contact info and asked if I’d be willing to share what happened after we got everything figured out. I graciously received her info and committed to reporting back to her.

Everyone departed, and so we turned back to our precious Lola to see how we might best care for her in this moment.

Saying Goodbye

Lola’s injuries were severe. We took her to a clinic about an hour from home. After an exam and conversation, we decided that it was best to bring Lola home to allow our kids to say their goodbyes.

By this time, it was late in the evening and we had a bandaged-up dog who was slowly fading away. The older two kids had been away for the early evening, but they were informed that it was time to let Lola go.

I sat on the porch with my youngest son who was processing this loss. I asked him if he had any favorite Lola moments he wanted to share. He had shared the same memory that I had been considering, the day we brought her home. And as he began to talk about the day, overcome with emotion, his words ceased to flow and, in their place, began the flow of tears.

Everyone had a moment to give Lola some final ear scratches and to say farewell. We assured her that she was a good dog. She got a few more pets and hugs and kisses. The grieving was good, and it still continues.

Goodbye, Lola.

Why Share This

Are we ever truly ready to say goodbye? Death comes like a thief. We learn of this in Scripture. It comes like a thief in the night, at a time we don’t often suspect, often leaving us with feelings of sorrow or occasionally regret. That regret tends to come with a host of “should haves.” [i.e. “I should have done,” “I should have said,” “I should have stopped,” etc.]

As a friend once said to me, when tempted to sit in those thoughts, “Stop should-ing all over yourself.” I appreciate that counsel.

We need to choose to see opportunities we have and seize them, not running away from sorrow or grief or regret. Rather, in our joy, observing the blessings of the moment, we must learn to live in the moment at hand and to experience life to the full.

As I thought more about Lola and this incident, I shared with my family this morning, I think there was a beautiful outcome in this story. In a way, God was trying to break through to this delivery driver. He allowed for this tragic moment to occur so that she would receive a prayer and a word that might be a seed for eternal life. God took our precious dog so that He might make life available to one of his dear children.

Is that a trade worth rejoicing over? I believe so. I think my kids are slow to embrace that truth, but they’re warming to that thought.

Why share this? This is LinkedIn! Aren’t these stories supposed to be on Facebook or something?!

You might suspect this is the wrong platform for this share. I would challenge that thought. I think that loss and grief accompany people whether they’re at home or at work. The hard reality is, we had to experience this grief and still show-up, doing work and school with our heads and hearts fully engaged. That’s difficult. Yet, it’s sort of expected, isn’t it!?

People experience trauma followed by grief, regularly. It’s part of life. It’s important to recognize that, even at work, and to make room to walk beside them. Sometimes that might mean giving them more grace than would typically be given. Sometimes it means we accommodate in unreasonably hospitable ways.

Are you conscious of grief and willing to make room for that, even at work?

Will We See Lola again?

So, the question was asked, “Will we see Lola again?” I don’t know for sure. But, Randy Alcorn seems to think so. In his book titled “Heaven” he writes of how God surrounded himself with animals during the creation account. And again, God surrounded himself with animals when He came to the earth in a manger, in the form of a baby, as Jesus. Both accounts include His being surrounded by animals. And to spare you an entire chapter of the book, God is in the restoration business. Through Jesus He is making all things new, again. Renewed. Restored. Redeemed. All things. Animals included. (Seriously, it’s a great book. Go read about “Heaven”.)

When we lose loved ones, the same question often comes. “Will I see them again?” I can confidently say that there is a reunion being prepared in Heaven right now for those who pass from this life to the next. It’s not an open-house though. You do need a ticket to enter.

The bad news is, you don't have the right currency to purchase that ticket.

The good news is, that ticket has already been bought by the blood of Jesus!

It's the forgiveness of our sins. All you need to do to receive that is agree that you are indeed a sinner and that you accept this free gift of salvation. That not only gets you a ticket, but it secures a seat at the table for eternity.

No, you don’t deserve a ticket, and you never will. It’s free. That’s the power of grace.

So, will we see Lola in heaven? I’m not sure. But I am sure that I’ll be there and will be ready to give her some ear scratches and watch her chase others around the streets of gold if she is there too.