Lou, The Sun Seeker

a remembrance

In 2010, Ryan got me a partially translucent green dog bowl for my birthday. As I inspected the dog bone shapes popped out around the bowl, letting sunlight pass through the green plastic, it slowly sank in: we didn’t have a dog. Not only that, we were living in a 300-square-foot studio that could barely hold the two of us, let alone a dog, even if our landlord allowed it.

The bowl wasn’t practical. It was a promise. That when the time was right, a dog, as we had been talking about for years, would be added to our family.

It was February in Los Angeles, the kind of day that reminds you it’s winter only when you’re standing in the shade, then immediately transports you to summer the moment sunlight hits your skin. Like every weekend after moving into our new, bigger place, we made our way to the West LA Animal Shelter.

When we arrived, the staff told us an entire litter had just been dropped off. As we turned the corner, we saw a crowd gathered around energetic puppies wrestling with one another. One sat in the back, face turned up toward the sun, completely unbothered by the chaos, by the other puppies rolling around in whatever was caked onto the floor of their holding area.

This was the moment we met Lou.

A few days later, his scrunched face and aggressively wagging tail officially came home, marking the beginning of a fifteen-year infatuation with the puppy of my dreams.

Finding words big enough to describe my love for Lou has been harder than I expected. There’s no way to fully explain how much better my life became because he occupied one-third of it.

Lou was equal parts high-octane energy and cuddle monster. No amount of training could convince him not to jump on everyone he met, I think he believed it was the fastest way to prove he just wanted to give you a kiss.

Trips to the dog park meant digging a hole big enough to disappear into, then riling up the other dogs to chase him. He’d weave between them, leap over paws and bodies, then vanish back into his hideout. All you could see was his tongue panting as his black fur blended into the dirt and wood chips.

After a back injury left his rear legs paralyzed, one of the therapists who helped him walk again labeled him a “sun seeker.” It was the most perfect description of his personality and behavior.

Lou was always the first under the covers, well before it was time for bed, curled into a tight little ball until you climbed in, at which point he’d stretch out beside you. He loved heavy blankets and physical touch. There was nothing better than lifting the covers to find him smiling ear to ear, panting, having overheated himself just to be warm and close.

During the cold, rainy days in Seattle, Lou traveled through the house with Hogie, finding slivers of sunlight to bathe in. While living in the Venice Canals, it was the sound of the ducks, Cheese and Quackers, wandering past our place that would wake him from rooftop slumber. He’d barrel down the stairs to lock eyes with the two birds he desperately wanted to catch, and was equally terrified of.

So now, sitting in your favorite sunny spot in the backyard, all I feel is gratitude that I got to love you.

I love how you circled the kitchen begging for blueberries, and even more how you carefully chewed them with your front teeth. I love how you tolerated your brother, Hogie, cleaning the inside of your ears when all you really wanted was some alone time.

I miss crouching down to touch our foreheads together, resting my nose in the ridge between your eyes. Every time, you honored the moment by pushing your face into mine before pulling away and swiping my nose with your tongue.

I miss your refusal to turn around on walks because you wanted to keep searching for squirrels, and carrying you home when your legs were too tired to go any farther.

I’ll hold onto the way your eyes widened when you saw waves crash or felt the snow crunch beneath your paws, the squeals of joy when you ran toward a pool to dive in and chase the water you splashed up, and the soft little “woof” you let out after your nose finished scrunching and assessing the breeze.

I miss you terribly, but I know you and Hogie are stretched out in the warmest slivers of light, chasing shooting stars like the squirrels you always wanted to catch.

I’ll keep finding you in the sun, under the covers, and in the sweetness of a blueberry.

I love you. Forever.