Missing Lulu

Lulu was my golden retriever for twelve wonderful years. She never left my side, even as my ex-husband did…several times. But I’m not bitter, because I’ll take Lulu over Damon any day.

I’ll never forget the summer we took a road trip together. Damon had just left me, the kids were at mom’s in Connecticut for three weeks. Sat on the lawn, slathered in sun lotion with a book that I’m too ashamed to admit that I read here. Hint: It has the same number of as we have states and is somewhere between black and white. Can you guess? Can ya?

Lulu got up from the foot of my lawn chair. She looked at the sky, as if she were looking at something. It was clear from here to kingdom come. Bright, sunny, weather was perfect.

“Screw it!” I said to Lulu. I packed an overnight back and some of her favorite toys, treats, and yes, her favorite outfits. I included the blue sweater my mom knitted for her that she doesn’t like, even though I think it’s perfect for her. Lulu and I don’t always see eye to eye.

We got into the convertible (my only reward in the divorce settlement) and pulled the top down. Buckled in for safety, Lulu enjoyed the fresh air with tongue wagging. I drove west past the city, onto the turnpike. We blasted or favorite Britney and Christina songs (don’t judge us.) As the sun set, I figured we could stay at that dog-friendly hotel in Pennsylvania.

Lulu and I had a good night’s sleep. In the morning, I looked at her and she gave me yet another peculiar look. As if to say (in her puppy-dog eye language), “why let the fun stop here.”

I have been the dutiful mother, and before that the dutiful wife. Before that the dutiful, daughter, coworker, student, church volunteer. This was my time. Our time. Instead of heading back east, I went west, through the Appalachian Mountains. Day after day, we passed through the Midwest, prayed for the Great Plaines to finally come to an end and to the Rocky Mountains. We settled for the night in a small town in Wyoming, just off I-80.

I called the kids, who were still mad at me for moving to New Jersey and wanted to stay with their day in Yonkers, New York so they could stay with their friends.

Abby was in that rebelious teenage phase where she didn’t want to talk with her mother but Izzy could talk for hours about small details, like what they had for lunch. She complained that she would miss her best friend Tullie, and I felt for her, I really did. As she blabbered, I watched Lulu frolick in a field of tall grasses with the mountains in the background. It was breathtaking.

“You know what? Maybe I was wrong. You and Abby should live with your dad if that’s what you really want.”

There was silence on the other end of the line for the first time in 45 minutes.

“Really? But what about…”

“Whatever. You go be with your best friend and I’ll spend some time with my best friend. Tell dad about your plans. And tell grandma.”

I’d never seen Lulu so happy. When I hung up the phone, I’d never felt so happy. This three-week vacation didn’t have to end.

I found a place on a ranch where I could do some light, part-time work while Lulu had more freedom to roam around than she had ever experienced in her lifetime. Several acres of fenced in area. Several other friendly dogs to play with. A pond for those hot days and a large tree to dry off underneath while perfecting the art of wagging her tail.

I frolicked too. I rode horses. I hiked mountains, albeit the small, not-so-steep parts. The Wyoming sky was open. I never heard or saw an airplane in the sky. I never encountered an angry driver on my way to and from town. We never went back.

The girls visited once or twice and often wondered why I was living in the “middle of nowhere.” It told them it was the middle of paradise. They came for a couple of weeks the next summer. It was out last summer with Lulu. When she passed, the girls were asleep and I held her in my arms and cried like a baby. The girls we upset too, but not as much. They had a new dog back in Yonkers, and apparently a new step-mom.

I had nobody. But I had my freedom. I had my convertible. The family urged me to come back to the East Coast. I used the skills I learned on the ranch to work and later manage other ranches around Wyoming, Montana, and Idaho. I learned everything you could know about horses and became pretty good at riding them.

One elderly man I worked for in Wyoming was grateful for the help I gave with the family ranch was he was struggling. His kids went to college to be lawyers, accountants and business managers in big cities. They didn’t want anything to do with the ranch or with Wyoming. When he passed, he left it to me. My very own business with cows, goats, five horses, one of them pregnant. When the baby foal was born, I named her Lulu after my beloved. I think of her every time I see that mountain range with the sky that goes on forever.

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