chiefbigfaith

A PROPOSAL FOR BETTER

END-OF-LIFE CARE

AT THE

 VETERINARIANS

OFFICE,

AS WELL AS MORE

 CARE IN GENERAL

BETWEEN

PEOPLE & ANIMALS

AT ALL TIMES

 

June 6, 2007 was the hardest day of my life. I had lived with Lola, my golden-retriever (mix) for fourteen years. She had gone almost EVERYWHERE with me starting out in Grand Rapids, Michigan in 1993. She had lived in the cold and snow (and loved it) and she had lived in the desert environment of COACHELLA VALLEY (California, Palm Springs/ Palm Desert, etc) She lived with me as I traveled across the USA (more than once) and up north to SEATTLE/OLYMPIA/LYNDEN (several Christmas & Easter trips). She walked with me through CENTRAL PARK in New York City. She swam in the Pacific Ocean & Lake Michigan with me—and everywhere else in between. And the HIGHLIGHT of our life together was getting to the TOP OF MT WHITNEY on July 19, 2006. She was thirteen years old.

 

We had family dogs when I was growing up but I never knew a dog like LOLA –with so much courage, energy, love, & affection. She was ONE OF A KIND. And of course very dog owner thinks the same of their best pal. So when end of life issues arise it is a VERY DIFFICULT TIME. And it usually means a trip to the veterinarian.

 

In my case, Lola was doing well up until about December of 2006. Even after the Mt. Whitney hike she recovered and was showing a lot of energy and zeal, especially when we would go to the dog beach in Long Beach, but around December she started to markedly slow down. I thought at first it might be simply signs of old age.

 

But as it turned out, it was more than just old age. I noticed her breathing was getting heavy, and then I noticed blood from her nose –just little drops at first. This was the beginning of periodic trips to the vet. None of the vets, at first, knew what was wrong with Lola. After a very severe episode of nose bleeding, one of them suggested it is probably heart congestion failure and gave me medication to try. Although maybe it was just coincidental the medication did seem to help, at least for a while.

 

But she wasn’t getting better. The bleeding had stopped but her breathing was still very labored. And of course I noticed every small change because she was with me 24 hours per day, seven days per week, except for the occasional out-of-town trip by airplane when I would leave her at a kennel—but I didn’t take any airplane trips from December 2006 up to the present (September 2007) so yes she was with me constantly.

 

I tell you this because sometimes veterinarians do not realize how CLOSELY ATTACHED a pet becomes to its owner and vice-versa. This is not always the case obviously. Some owners do not have that special closeness to their dog or other pet. And sometimes owners are even abusive or neglectful of their dog.

 

But in my case, LOLA was something special. I came to believe over time that GOD had given me LOLA back in 1993 as a guardian angel of sorts. It was a time when I had returned to Grand Rapids and was getting more education at Calvin College on top of my original bachelors degree and did not have many close friends—so Lola became very close to me, almost a spiritual closeness, which I now analogize to the closeness we have (or should have) as Christians with Jesus Christ, our Savior.

 

For those of you who are not spiritual, not Christian, and not religious, I don’t know how else to explain what I am talking about. There are those such as the old fellow up by Big Bear Lake to whom I mentioned Lola and he raised his eyebrows as if such a closeness was something strange. I later e-mailed a few people and said a "perverted old man" did not understand what I was talking about when I talked to him about a spiritual relationship I had with my dog.

 

There was nothing perverted or weird about my relationship with my dog, Lola. And if you talk to any other genuine dog owners they will tell you the same, even if they don’t necessarily equate it with a similar relationship to Jesus Christ, or think of their dog as a guardian angel.

 

When your dog is with you for so long, and she sleeps nearby you at night, and you get up to let her urinate outside in the middle of the night (Lola was remarkable in that she could usually go all night without having to go outside but there were a few occasions, understandably so) and is with you when you wake up in the morning—wagging her tail so happy to see you awake and alive, and she knows that it is time for a "walk", and so on and so forth…she becomes an attachment, not just a dog.

 

And she becomes more than an object to take care of, she takes on personality and you begin to realize that communication of some sort is possible with a dog—not every dog—but with some dogs with whom a relationship has been truly established.

 

And that relationship does not happen over night. When I first got Lola I just thought of her as a plain old dog, something to have fun with—to take to the park, to throw a ball for, to watch her run and play with other dogs, to see her swim. I still remember when she was just a tiny little bundle—I had just brought her back from getting her over on the northwest side—where I discovered her in a backyard literally trembling amongst some bigger dogs. The original owner had named her Brandy but had returned her or gave her away because she (an elderly lady) thought she was too hyper.

 

Ironically, I had gone to this place expecting to find a black Labrador—which was our family tradition. We had two black labs growing up—first FRIENDLY, then SAM. It turned out she was a GOLDEN DOG –actually at the time almost white as snow. And on my way over there I said I would take the pup NO MATTER WHAT, black, white, red or whatever—I just assumed it was black. I don’t like the notion of shopping around to find the perfect color,shape, or size. I like the notion of accepting what you are given IN GOOD FAITH. And so I did.

 

I paid $25 for Lola (a token of assurance that I would probably take good care of her) and carried her out with me to my red1986 Honda Prelude. I tried to put her on the seat next to me but she crawled up on my lap and then behind my neck, more like a cat than a puppy—but she clung to the back of my neck and stuck to me as I drove back to our rental house at 58 Baltimore St. My roommates were undergraduates in college—younger than me, and they enjoyed my new pup as well.

 

I hadn’t thought of a name yet but for some reason Lola came to my mind—and as I reflect on my thinking process at the time for some reason I thought of the "madre" with whom we lived during a semester in Spain whose name was Lola, and I don’t know why but I named Lola in honor of (definitely an honor) our Spanish madre, Lola—who cooked great meals, did our laundry, kept our bedroom clean—while we studied Spanish in Spain (my roommate in the same house in Denia, Spain was Keith Steensma).

 

I had not yet told our landlord, Arie Vanderweide, about Lola, but assumed or hoped it would be alright. As an aside, Arie is now a doctor living in Fremont, Michigan—and I first met him when Jim Zoetewey introduced me to him. The late Jim Zoetewey of Bellflower, CA had gone back to Grand Rapids to get a masters degree at Calvin College. Arie was his high school friend from Bellflower. Jim invited me to live in the house at 58 Baltimore while I also attended Calvin College as a postgraduate. I was not living with the two of them at the time I got Lola, however. This was later—after they had moved out, but Arie had kept the house as a rental property.

 

Anyways, Lola became an indoor/outdoor dog. She had a little doghouse under the pine tree at 58 Baltimore where she could stay if she wished. But sometimes she also stayed inside with me, and slept in the bedroom on the floor next to me. I was living with Mario Cappazani (originally from Argentina) at the time as well as John Douma (now a Christian Reformed church pastor in Byron Center, MI).And it was amazing how quickly she became house broken. She learned very quickly not to urinate indoors.

I was so happy I had such a intelligent and obedient dog.

 

 I took her over to Reeds Lake during those first few months and she did not need any persuading to go in the water. The first time she jumped right in as if she were a duck. And that was in September when the water was already getting cold. And she would chase anything that moved. One time I jogged with her from the house on 58 Baltimore over to Reeds Lake and I had taken her off the leash to try to train her to stay by my side, but she saw a duck and off she went—the tiny little thing—still not much bigger than the size of a large cat—chasing the duck down the middle of the road ! I held my breath hoping no car was coming—and thankfully she gave up after a few moments, but it is one of those images that remains in my mind to this day.

 

And of course having one’s dog get hit or killed by a car is any dog owners biggest NIGHTMARE. I am so thankful that she stayed healthy for as long as she did and that there were no major catastrophes, illnesses, or injuries during the time we had together. And remember this is a dog that went hiking, biking, swimming, and everything else with me, including two summers in Jackson, Wyoming, among other places.

 

And because I traveled so much as I was getting established in life—she was in the car with me most of the time. I was always mindful of how long I could be in a store or library or wherever without having to get right back out to make sure she was okay—especially on a warm day. Down in Coachella Valley—she had it great—for one year she lived in a new housing area where I lived with Jim Zoetewey again (lo and behold) as we both taught at the same high school for a year; and then a second year she lived on a ranch with me where I rented a corner trailer—at the estate of Art & Theresa Tapia.

 

That was a good place for her although I’m not sure how great it was for me (even though it was cheap). She would run with me through the nearby orange groves (some of which is now occupied by residential or a golf course construction). She was there when I would come home for a hard day teaching, and two years of a difficult educational environment that became politically hostile. No matter how hard my day was—no matter what kind of insulting environment I had been in—she was there, wagging her tail, when I returned.

 

And those two years were two years of exploration including one long trip down to Baja California and across the bay on a car ferry and back up to the USA and over the border (this was a trip I took without Lola but had found a very loving family nearby to take care of her at the time—and it happened to be during Thanksgiving and lo and behold Lola had become pregnant a few months prior). It was my first year of teaching at the high school in Coachella and somewhere along the way—as I reflected on it later—it must have been at the dog park in Laguna Beach—Lola had been impregnated by a large black dog). At first I thought she was sick—her stomach was getting hard—but then I realized she must be pregnant—and it was during my Thanksgiving Trip that she gave birth to nine all-black puppies ( a few had splashes of white on them ) at the home of this loving family. IN fact, they loved Lola so much they wanted one of her puppies and so I gladly gave to them the choice of the litter.

 

For the next few months I was a father to ten dogs—the nine little ones plus Lola. And Lola was a GREAT MOTHER to these pups. It must have been exhausting to breastfeed them every day and clean them and keep them warm and comforted. Sometimes she would look up at me pleadingly as if to say "how long will this last ?" And sometimes when I would play too much with one of the puppies Lola would get in between us as if to say to me I am YOUR ONLY DOG. She would get jealous if I played with any dogs too much, including her own puppies.

 

So as you can see a sort of bonding was definitely taking place. She taught me about loyalty to one dog (making me think about loyalty to ONE GOD ), and about love, and affection, and sincerity. After a while I would get jealous if she was too playful with other humans. It was mutual. She was MY DOG.

 

And it was during this time in Coachella Valley that Jim Zoetwey died in a car accident. I had moved out of the house after my first year there—but he was still there for another year—and I would stop by from time-to-time and say hello. Then I took a trip to Africa in June of 1996 and when I returned I was informed by my mother (in Bellflower) who knew Jim’s mother that Jim had been killed in a car accident on the way to a youth pastor convention in Big Bear.

 

Jim was not a dog owner type of person but I was surprised that he put up with Lola—even occasionally showed affection towards her, briefly. And how I ever came to live with Jim twice I do not know but it just worked out that way and may he rest in peace, or be happy in heaven. Both he and I worked in an insulting environment in Coachella—and sometimes I regretted having ever accepted that teaching job—but now look back on it as a learning experience.

 

From Coachella I returned to Michigan for a year and did a year of theological studies ---and of course Lola went with me. During the trip to Africa, Art & Theresa Tapia took care of her—and after the funeral for Jim Zoetewey she went with me on another road trip to Michigan. This time I didn’t know where I would stay and wasn’t even yet enrolled at the seminary. But I managed to find a place in an area known as Easttown, Grand Rapids.

 

I randomly saw an ad for a room posted by a young man named Gary Dewitt, an art student at Calvin College at the time. He owned an old house in Easttown and had four or five roommates with one spare room. It turned out he was the son of “famous” Cal Dewitt, the University of Wisconsin professor known for being an environmentalist.  And fortunately he accepted pets, or accepted Lola. IN fact he had his own dog. So there I was again back in Grand Rapids with Lola for a year, only a few blocks from my late grandfather’s mansion at 750 Plymouth. She walked with me and talked with me during the long winter—playing in the snow, and wading in the creeks & lakes, including, again, Reeds Lake.

 

It was a tough year—with all the studying (especially the Greek )and trying to make financial ends meet as well as the fact that Gary & I had become somewhat antagonistic to each other by the end of that year. So I knew after nine months in west Michigan that I should return to California and continue my theological studies at Fuller Seminary in Pasadena. And so I did, with Lola by my side.

 

I arrived in Pasadena with Lola in September of 1997 and didn’t have a place to stay. My parents lived in Bellflower but I was not exactly expecting to live with them. I was thirty years old by that time—thought that was old then. Now I am forty. I didn’t have a place to stay but I was used to living on the road with Lola—and for a few days I tied her up to a tree right next to the president’s office at Fuller Seminary. I didn’t think twice about it at the time.

 

You see, Richard Mouw was the president of Fuller Seminary and he was an old friend of our family dating back to our Grand Rapids days when Rich was a professor at Calvin College and we attended the same church together. He and his wife Phyliss and their only child, Dirk, socialized with our family.

 

So when I arrived at Fuller I was thinking that good ol Rich Mouw was the same easy going Mouw I knew and remembered from Grand Rapids when he still smoked a pipe and played Frisbee golf as a philosophy professor on the lawn at Calvin. And another good ol’ friend, Peter Harkema, from Calvin College and our church (1^st CRC) was also at Fuller Seminary, a constant sidekick of Rich Mouw.

 

But some things had changed. Fuller Seminary was a little more uptight . And one day—only a few days after I arrived at Fuller and was getting oriented to the area a student came up to me and said, ominously, "They’re going to have the humane society come and get your dog !" Apparently, not everybody thought of my Lola in an affectionate manner. I don’t know who it was, specifically, who objected to Lola being tied up to the tree while I took care of odds & ends but I got the message and that was the end of that. I took her with me in the car and just made sure that I took a lot of breaks for her.

 

I found the local parks that were dog friendly and gradually came to know southern California better and now know where all the dog parks are—near and far. The dog parks were a great place for Lola. She could play with other dogs and of course other dog owners are usually dog friendly. And I discovered the dog beach in Long Beach, right by the Belmont Pier. Oh, she loved that dog beach. She even took a few trips with me to Catalina Island ! The ferry requires dogs to be muzzled and she didn’t like that too much but usually they let me take it off after we got going—given she was so friendly and everybody loved her.

 

People remarked about her white or golden  hair—how remarkable it was—and inquired as to what kind of dog she was. I figured she was mostly Golden Retriever, but obviously mixed with something else. Some suggested English Setter and even possibly WHEATEN TERRIER which I looked up on the web and noticed there was some possible resemblance. There was something definitely angelic about her fur as well as her disposition. I even thought about having her trained to be a "therapy dog" but by the time I thought of it, it was too late in life (for her).

 

Most recently I realized she could have also been a great "AIR DOG"— a new concept that I came across when I was in Traverse City, Michigan in July (2007). They have dog jumping contests—for distance as well as height—and the dogs land in a huge pool of water at the end of the ramp. The owner throws or dangles a ball or object that the dog lunges towards—and the height or distance is precisely measured in the process. It’s called "air dogs" and apparently was founded by former Detroit Tiger pitcher, Milt Wilcox.

 

I wished Lola had been with me. She would have been the star of the show. She loved the water. She loved chasing balls, and she loved jumping off the end of a dock. That was the original concept for air dogs—jumping off the end of a dock.

 

Anyways, where was I ? oh yeah, Lola was with me through the Fuller Seminary years. I didn’t mention her of course to too many people because the flippant remark would be that I have to take care of her myself (that was when I still thought of seminary as a communal place where people loved and cared for each other and would help take care of each other’s kids or dogs or whatever . And it could be such an environment but there are those who don’t want it to be like that). So I just took care of her myself and diligently completed my studies—never feeling much affection from the seminary environment—making me all the more close to my dog, Lola.

 

LOLA was with me during those beginning seminary years during which time I was also addressing the problems back at COACHELLA VALLEY UNIFIED SCHOOL DISTRICT. I speak generously of my time there when it is just about LOLA AND ME  but in fact there were some very significant problems to the detriment of the educational environment and to the detriment of the students. I felt compelled after leaving to address the SERIOUS PROBLEMS at the school district—and did so using the judicial system as well as a few other organizations. That took time and effort as well—and several return trips to COACHELLA VALLEY (Indio, Thermal, Palm Desert, Coachella, et. al). LOLA was there for me through it all—after difficult days in court with obstinate, seemingly uncaring attorneys,  there was LOLA with her tail wagging at the end of the day.

 

And LOLA was even in the car with me on February, 3, 2000 when, after a day of teaching ( I was guest teaching as well as a student at seminary) and in between two late-afternoon classes that I was coming to an intersection at Lake & Villa when a lady ran a red light and I had to hit the brakes and skid to a stop. Fortunately we did not collide but two cops (Tim Mosman & Tom Brown) nearby came up and inquired about what had happened and in the process they decided they didn’t like me (they later falsely alleged that I was yelling and being threatening to them) and I ended up face down on the ground with a bunch of cops on top of me and Lola going crazy inside my red Honda Prelude—all because I would not accept the blame for a near accident (not an actual accident) in which the other driver ( a beautiful young lady) ran a red light but would not admit it.

 

Lola was there with me—the only truthful witness. And she spent the night in the pound because the police detained me, impounded my car, and a few hours later, realizing their mistake sent me back out with scrapes and bumps and permanent damage to my spine. Lola was there with me ! do you see why she became a spiritual source of comfort—she was there with me even in the toughest times. She was my only friend at a time when the cops were beating me up and yelling at me and even the people at the seminary refused to take sides and truly come to my defense. It was a very discomforting time and only Lola stood by me (along with my true Savior Jesus Christ). Maybe you can see why Lola took on a sort of spiritual comfort & significance to me through all of this.

 

 I must add that later on a few people in the Fuller community made some positive gestures but I was truly saddened by the overly "neutral" position the Fuller community takes. But I thank Peter Harkema for being willing to be a character witness (as a fill in for Rich Mouw) for me in the subsequent trial and also thank Jim Kok (my dad) for testifying.

 

That incident back in February of 2000 meant several years of litigation and a legal setting with a very antagonistic lawyer opposing me. It meant days in court trying to right the wrongs and listen to liars (I mean lawyers) and police testify falsely among other things—my only solace at the end of the day being my GREAT GOLDEN LOLA !

 

During this time the pain in my neck, left arm, and left leg increased —and after several MRI’S and X-RAYS I was finally formally diagnosed with “cervical radiculopathy” , and was told that surgery may be the only possible cure—although it is no guarantee. I’ve also tried medication, physical therapy, and chiropractic treatment—with some relief, but nothing permanent.

 

But who cares about my neck, arm , and leg, among other things. This is about LOLA my beloved dog. As I was saying—she was with me ALL THE TIME. She was waiting in my car  or tied up in the shade nearby after a trip to the doctor. She was ready for a walk all the time—and I LOVED IT !

 

Through the seminary years and post-seminary as I was starting my own ministry, Mustard Seed Ministries (see www.mustardseedfaith.org) LOLA was with me ! We spent a lot of time at FARNSWORTH PARK in ALTADENA, as well as any  dog park we could find, big or small (there’s a nice one in east Pasadena on Orangegrove—although kind of small; and there’s the one along Mulholland Drive above Hollywood; and there’s one in Seal Beach; and the one by my doctor’s office in Van Nuys---that’s a great dog park—with two big areas for both small & large dogs; and don’t forget the one along IMPERIAL HIGHWAY by LOS ANGELES INTERNATIONAL AIRPORT,  among many others).

 

And Lola would go with me on guest teaching assignments. I always knew where to find shade to make sure she stayed cool in the car—and if it was a particularly warm day I would either let her relax outside tied up under the shade of a tree or come out and pour cool water on her ---even though the car was in the shade—she still needed to have water poured over her or let outside. I was always apprehensive, of course, about leaving her tied up outside without me being present but as it turned out—nobody bothered her nor was she a bother to anybody—and people seemed to care about her.

 

I would sometimes go to the library and tie her up outside where I could see her through the window—and watch people walk by and pet her. Even in her last few months from January to June of 2007—when people could see she was starting to suffer—until the last few weeks--she still managed to give a big wag of her tail and showed interest in people.

 

There were the few absolutely uncaring people—some bureaucratic security guards and even a few bureaucratic  police who didn’t seem to care about the  welfare of me or my dog

–--only about whether she had a leash on or whether I was legally parked or whatever…which reminds me of the time I had just pulled in to Farnsworth Park –must have been around 1999 –when I was still relatively new to Pasadena/Altadena and still going through seminary-- and my dog, LOLA, was sick. I had driven with her to Altadena all the way from the San Fernando Valley—and she was not well.

 

 I am not sure what was bothering her—maybe something that she ate—but I took her out of the car and sat down on the grass with her—she didn’t run around like she normally would have the moment I let her out of the car—she just sat or laid on the grass. There was no need to have the leash on at the moment—she wasn’t going anywhere—and my hand was on her collar. Nonetheless, a police officer (must have been L.A County Sheriff) drove by and the female officer yelled at me that I must have her on the leash.

 

 I discerned quickly  that the officer  was specifically targeting me as a person—as a certain profile—not based upon what was actually happening—because the directive from her made no sense given LOLA was very well constrained by me—and given that she was sick—and on top of that given that one could easily ascertain that she was of a good disposition—not like an angry pit bull or fighting dog. I had to very clearly indicate, at the risk of being “smart”  to the officer at a time when I would have preferred a little compassion that my “DOG IS ILL—if you can’t tell officer !”

 

A lot of people with the GRUFF  dispositions who do not seem to care are that way because of territorial behavior—sort of like gang members who think of an area is their area. A lot of gruff localism is based upon a sense of entitlement to an area simply because they’ve been there longer—and while there is good entitlement there is also bad entitlement when it means treating people rudely, wrongly, and with a cold shoulder for self-serving reasons.

 

Fortunately,  by and large, in general, people do care, although don’t expect too much SPIRITUAL DISCERNMENT OF COMPASSION from the average person.  Nonetheless,  I submit people can CARE MORE—and that we can have an even BETTER COMMUNITY if we can nurture more care and compassion for each other, not only each other’s dogs but each other as individuals as well.

 

But that’s a different proposal for a different time. This is ABOUT LOLA—and my life with her. Before I come to the end and indulge too much about the last few months, weeks, days, and hours, let me go back to JULY 19, 20O6 and our trip together to the TOP OF MT. WHITNEY !

 

I remember seeing MT. WHITNEY for the first time as I was exploring CALIFORNIA a few years ago—I was heading north at the time probably on a roundabout way to Sacramento—and vowed to myself that some day I would take the hike to the top. I even searched “Mt Whitney” on my hand-held device as I was driving by, if I recall correctly, and  tried to get some information about it. I found out that you are required to have a permit to hike to the top—and so I called several months prior and reserved a time in the middle of the summer—when there would be the least chance of inclement weather, and definitely no fresh snow (or so I assumed based on what I read).

 

And so on JULY 17, two days prior to my reservation time,  I headed north from LOS ANGELES towards MT. WHITNEY—ready for the big hike. Mt. Whitney is the highest peak in the continental USA at about 14, 500 feet.  It’s a good hike—a tough hike—but not a climb. No climbing gear is needed in the middle of the summer if you stay on the main trail.

 

There’s a lake a few miles south of  LONE PINE (which is the turnoff to the MT. WHITNEY trailhead )  where I camped that night—and LOLA enjoyed swimming (as did I). I made sure I had the requisite hiking materials—a new backpack, some iodine tablets, a few clothing articles—but did not take a tent nor a sleeping bag—my plan was to HIKE ALL NIGHT leaving on JULY 18—if all went well.

 

I had heard that you could hike up to a certain point without a permit and my plan was to go up to that point and if it seemed feasible to just continue going even though my permit was for the next day. I figured I might not even get to the stopping point before midnight so I would be okay—depending on how LOLA did, as well as myself.

 

So we camped out and slept there by  DIAZ LAKE . Even though she could have slept outside LOLA slept inside the car with me—as she preferred—usually on the front seat or on the floor in front of the passenger seat—a place she always liked ever since the Honda Prelude days.

 

And the next day we took our time getting ready for the hike—no big hurry. For those who begin on the same day of their permit—they usually start at 4 a.m. or even earlier—especially if they are trying to do it all in  one day. If you intend to camp you have to apply for a camping permit which takes even more advanced notice.

 

LOLA and I walked around LONE PINE for a few hours and I bought some groceries—in addition to what I had already had for the hike. And then we headed up towards WHITNEY PORTAL (the trailhead). There’s a café there, alongside a creek and a wooded area.

 

Of course everything seems easy and familiar in retrospect—now that I’ve done it—but at the time it was all new and foreign to me. I mentioned driving by Mt. Whitney some time prior to the hike—and I actually drove all the way up to the portal and looked around—so it was actually my second time there—but just looking from the car window does not give you any real idea about what to expect.

 

The previous day I had picked up my pass at the ranger station—so I was all set if anybody inquired, and I parked my car and got out with LOLA . I packed and re-packed my stuff—not much compared to what a lot of others carry—and double-checked to make sure I had the essentials, especially a flashlight, water bottles, and  a little bit of food.

 

I knew I probably forgot something but finally I decided to just start walking—and so we went . Lola and me—nobody very interested in the two of us –we were just an other couple of hikers—although I was one of the few with a dog. LOLA would later become the star of the show as everybody seemed impressed by her fortitude. A good dog sometimes brings out the best in people. If I had been alone I probably wouldn’t have gotten much more than a hello in passing—but LOLA was a conversation piece. WHAT A GIRL J!

 

And we walked, and walked, and walked some more…! And kept on walking… LOLA had a TON OF ENERGY going up—more so than me. I would let her off the leash from time to time when it seemed safe and she would run ahead –every now and the stopping to LOOK BACK and make sure I was right behind her. That’s what was so funny—she seemed to be actually watching out for my welfare –and when I fell too far behind she would actually turn around and come back to make sure I was okay.

 

And there were a lot of little streams to cross—most of them had stones for hikers feet to step on but LOLA JUST WADED CHEST HIGH OR MORE through the water—sometimes with me holding on to her with the leash lest the rapid current grab hold of her. Nothing seemed to scare or intimidate her not even the roaring water. We saw a few deer at one point and lots of little chirpers—maybe chipmunks or some sort of squirrel—she chased one—and cornered it inside a stump—it was CHIRPING furiously—I caught it on video tape ! LOLA was barking and barking—and the squirrel was chirping and chirping. I finally pulled LOLA back and got back on the trail again.

 

It was GETTING DARK. I knew I was nearing the highest campground area—where those with permits are allowed to stay for the night. But I didn’t know how close I actually was—and it was VERY DARK. I had my flashlight but the trail seemed to be getting thin—and there were lots of rocks—I actually didn’t know for sure at one point whether I was actually on the trail or not. It was making me a little NERVOUS.

 

To get off the trail and start wandering—not knowing for sure where I was going—would be a mistake. I could end up who knows where and find myself truly lost. So I STOPPED. I simply stopped—and figured there would be other hikers behind me who could help lead the way. I figured wrong—at least there were no other hikers for several hours.

 

I had planned on the possibility of having to sleep or nap along the trail if I was going to hike all night but I had not prepared for the possibility of it getting AS COLD AS IT DID in the middle of JULY. It became extremely cold over the next few hours—and as I would find out the next morning—there was snow on the ground not much further up the trail. I did have an EMERGENCY BLANKET that I bought at the sportsman’s store back in LA CANADA (near Los Angeles) –and this provided a little comfort—it’s like a large piece of flexible tinfoil that is supposed to preserve body heat—and it can be folded up into a small package that fits in one’s pants pocket.

 

But it did not provide enough comfort. I was still VERY COLD. At that point I was actually only a few feet from the trail on a patch of grass and trying to make the best of the situation—lying supine with LOLA next to me. LOLA of course didn’t seem to care at all how cold it was—she was sound asleep. I tried to pull her body next to me—and steal some of her body heat—which helped a little but she didn’t seem to like that much intimacy for very long and pulled away from me and moved up above my head—my best pal at the moment was more concerned about getting a good night sleep—oblivious to the fact that humans cannot handle the cold as well as canines in their fur jacket. I started wishing I was a dog.

 

I rolled over and over and over again—thinking that maybe if I found the right position I would find warmth and comfort—but it was only WISHFUL THINKING. I finally abandoned the quest for a good nights sleep or even a bad night’s sleep. I was JUST TOO COLD. I stood up –did some jumping jacks—sang a few hymns that I remembered—and waited…when conditions are bad—time seems to move so slowly.. I wondered if daylight would ever come.

 

Finally, I heard voices—what a relief.. and then I saw flashlights or headgear lights bobbing in the distance from the direction I had come. These were the early morning hikers finally arriving. My head start had not paid off. They were moving at a brisk pace and I called out to them—they seemed to be very confident as to where they were going—and seemed to be able to easily find the trail—maybe they had hiked it before.

 

I told them I had lost the trail and fell in behind their group—four or five of them—and only a few moments later we arrived at the camping area—where a lot of tents were set up –and hikers getting prepared for the final leg to the top. This is also where the infamous serious of switchbacks begins. I was out of water and knew there was a lake next to the camp area and refilled my bottles adding the requisite iodine tablets—that turned the water brown and slightly less tasty—but nonetheless safe. LOLA lapped from the lake itself.

 

And then we set out again this time with daylight breaking –and with the comfort of others nearby. We started the switchbacks, one long switchback after another—I was starting to feel tired for the first time. In fact the altitude was also having an effect. LOLA seemed to be handling it okay. We went on and on and on back-and- forth, back-and-forth, stopping frequently to rest. Other hikers went by seemingly without any problem at all. I NEVER ONCE considered turning back but I knew I needed to take my time---more for my sake than for the sake of LOLA . she was still doing fine.

 

We finally made it to the top of the switchbacks—and there was a lot of SNOW up here at this point. It was where I had to physically lift LOLA a few times over some barriers and around some sections—because some vertical climbing or scrambling was required. It was also a ridge of sorts with a drop on either side if you slipped or fell. I kept LOLA on a short leash. I was simultaneously exhilarated at being so high and far, while also a little bit delirious from exhaustion and altitude.

 

I had a map to chart my progress and could see, on paper, that it was not much further to the top. But it always seems so much easier ON PAPER. For a while I could only go a hundred feet or so without having to stop and rest.  I was also almost out of food—so no more calories to consume to help me or LOLA. Fortunately there was plenty of water for both of us—and she also stopped and ate snow along the way.

 

Hikers encouraged me going both ways—some already coming back down—others till going up—with more energy than me. One particular fellow was so infatuated with LOLA being there with me—he kept asking me if I thought she could make it—whether it was a good idea to bring her—and also told me that he had a golden retriever too. He said he was from TEXAS and then he asked if he could take a picture of himself with LOLA. It was a strange request as I recall. He was with another fellow and I said sure—not sure what to make of the request—and I actually took the picture of him with LOLA using his camera.

 

I said I’d like to see it sometime and he said he would email me the picture. We exchanged email addresses and they went onward. Later I would contact him by email but he didn’t sent the picture of him with LOLA—he sent a picture of his own dog. I wondered if he actually planned on using the picture of him with LOLA as  if it were his own dog up on WHITNEY ? did he want to fool people—as if he made the climb with his own dog? And was he jealous that I had my dog with me but he didn’t? There was just something strange about it.

 

Nonetheless it did not preoccupy me for very long. I could see the SUMMIT ! I could see the shack at the top—it was a shack they had built a long time ago but is no longer used for anything. There is a book for registering at the top—and when I finally got there—the last few hundred yards seemed to take forever—I signed in, and LOLA and I sat with a feeling of TRIUMPH at the top ! We sat right on the very edge along with the others—and some young dude took our picture. It was very close to NOON if I recall correctly.

 

We ENJOYED THE MOMENT for as long as we could . it was cloudy but the clouds broke a little bit after a while and I could see down towards LONE PINE—and much further in the distance, DEATH VALLEY—the lowest point in NORTH AMERICA at 282 feet below sea level. In the other direction (west) there were various peaks and valleys and lakes. There is another trail that comes up from that direction.

 

I wondered if LOLA knew what she had just accomplished or WHY ? She would follow me through a forest fire if I asked her to---she was such a LOYAL DOG J!

LOYALTY knows no limits. Imagine if we were as loyal to GOD as our dogs are to us !

 

I knew we COULDN’T STAY UP THERE FOREVER. We had a long return trip.

 

I was also KEEPING AN EYE ON LOLA’S PAWS making sure they were not too sore. At the top we crossed over a lot of rocky areas and it does take a toll on their natural footpads. I had heard about people putting protective coverings over their dog’s paws for extreme hikes such as this but had decided to take the chance without it. And they were tender but not to the point of being debilitating. I, myself, had also acquired a few blisters along the way and later realized that the boots I was wearing are actually VERY HEAVY –much heavier than normal lightweight hiking boots—in fact they are workboots—and later wondered how much easier the hike might have been with the lightweight boots I now wear.

 

Nonetheless, it didn’t matter—we were ON THE WAY BACK DOWN ! the sun was warm, the snow was white and bright, my sunglasses, hat, and sunscreen were on,  and we were descending. I had no more food to eat for the next sixteen hours—which is how long it would take to get back down. We slowly but surely descended the same way we came up. Over the snow and the tricky areas where I had to lift LOLA –I actually considered bypassing the switchbacks with a quick slide down the snow covered slope next to it—it seemed so easy –I could be down in ten minutes if all went well as opposed to several hours on the monotonous switchbacks. 

 

OR I could be dead just as quick. Who knows what is under the snow? There were no signs warning of it being dangerous but then at this level signs and warnings were very infrequent if at all. And who knows how deep the snow is? I took the prudent way back down. By this time LOLA was showing definite signs of being weary. She was no longer bouncing along in front of me. Now she was behind me and lying down on the trail from time to time as if to say, “I’m not going any further.”

 

I knew we had to keep going—and that we would be going all night long—or most of it. I also knew that we could not afford to get off trail like we did on the way up. I was also VERY THANKFUL it had not rained during the night—and that the sky looked okay for the time being. So I coaxed her onward and she obediently followed.

 

We made it back to the first campground—waved to some of the campers and kept going one tiny step at a time. I have to admit I was slightly exhausted at this point as well. I gave LOLA some time to bathe in the lakes and streams that we passed BUT we did not procrastinate. In fact, shortly after we passed the top camp- I heard a rumble of thunder. The clouds were getting dark.

 

We kept going, and going. I took a few naps along the way—just couldn’t keep my eyes open—had to stop and rest—but not for too long. Got back up and kept going—coaxing LOLA along the way. Then it STARTED RAINING—fortunately just a gentle sprinkle—I had my poncho on—AND managed to stay relatively dry—also thankfully it didn’t last for very long. AT one point I saw a RAINBOW in the distance towards DEATH VALLEY----and then I realized it was a DOUBLE RAINBOW ! it made my day. I snapped a great picture of it, and we kept on going, and going. I don’t know why but it seemed much longer going downward. And as it got dark we were ALL ALONE again.

 

We took a LOT OF CATNAPS  along the trail, sometimes right in the middle of the trail—not too worried about other hikers coming along at that point. Around 3 a.m. I knew we were on the final leg downward—and around 4 a.m. I saw lights of new hikers coming up. It felt good to be the one encouraging them as I descended. We finally made it to the car. Lola fell into a DEEP SLEEP on the front seat while I snoozed in the back. I  NEVER SLEPT BETTER IN MY LIFE.

 

I don’t think I knew where I was right away when I finally woke up—it was 8 a.m. – late for me. LOLA was still totally asleep. I climbed out of the station wagon and rambled on over to the café where I ordered some pancakes for breakfast. I had NO IDEA that this particular café was famous for their pancakes. I had asked the girl behind the counter whether I should order a few but she assured me, with a smile,  that one would be enough.

 

And she was right—the pancakes are the size of two paper plates—in fact one HUGE PANCAKE is served on two paper plates joined together, or overlapping each other. I STARED AT IT with amazement. The gal laughed and asked me if I thought it would be enough. There was a couple outside who said they came up here just for the pancakes. Learn something new everyday. So I sat there beneath the PINE TREES watching the chipmunks and blue jays as they watched for a morsel to be dropped or thrown to them. I ATE WITH SATISFACTION but couldn’t finish it all—which was good because I didn’t have any dog food in the car—and LOLA would have the rest of it for breakfast—if she ever woke up.

 

WHAT A HIKE ! WHAT A DAY ! OR TWO DAYS—actually FOUR DAYS including arrival and camping out at DIAZ LAKE. It was not JULY 20, 2006. I drove back down the road towards LONE PINE—LOLA had actually woken while I was gone for breakfast and had climbed into the back of the car on top of my pile of pillows, sleeping bags, and blankets. WHAT A JOURNEY !

 

I look back on it as an INCREDIBLE EXPERIENCE ! it took us a few days to recover. Lola’s pads were sore. My whole body was  sore. But we were back on our feet in a few days. LOLA was back to chasing balls and swimming in the ocean in what seemed like no time at all. She had been with me for so long I really couldn’t even imagine that by the NEXT JULY she would no longer be with me.

 

For the next few months life went back to some routine. I composed and sent out a SUNDAY MESSAGE about my trip to the top of MT WHITNEY and got a great response from my SUNDAY MESSAGE e-mail audience. And I was in the midst of finding a new message to deliver from a new place every SUNDAY—and so I resumed that hectic schedule that left me exhausted at the end of every day. One Sunday in CATALINA ISLAND, another SUNDAY from BEVERLY HILLS, and yet another SUNDAY in DEATH VALLEY and then in the inner city of WATTS, among other places. But nothing could top the MT. WHITNEY EXPERIENCE with LOLA !

 

By DECEMBER as I’ve mentioned previously—LOLA was starting to show signs of what I thought was old age. And from that point on it was a slow but sure decline—as I mentioned –due to what turned out to be a developing brain tumor. I was in denial for a while—actually thinking that I would like to do MT. WHITNEY again with LOLA at the age of fourteen ! at one point I also e-mailed a few people saying I want LOLA to become the oldest dog that ever lived. But it wasn’t meant to be. 

 

We still enjoyed the next few months---LOLA did not become totally debilitated until around the end of MAY. By that time she had actually gone TOTALLY BLIND—apparently instantaneously—due to the brain tumor. It was the strangest most surreal experience—to suddenly realize she just went blind. I believe it was during or shortly after a major bloody nose episode where she was sneezing blood and it was coming out in large quantities. I don’t have all the times and dates in my head anymore about what happened first or exactly where or when—but I remember the vet thinking she might be having heart congestion failure and prescribing medication. Another vet wanted to do a bunch of expensive tests and I settled for half of what they wanted to do. None of them seemed to be very optimistic that even if they did discover what was wrong that they could do anything to help LOLA at her age.

 

I kept her on medication and tried a few homeopathic remedies that I read about—and for a while (before the blindness) I was hopeful that maybe she was coming around, but it was just brief moments of remission from the tumor. I was no longer in denial and went ahead and purchased a plot to bury her in at the CALABASAS PET MEMORIAL park, one of the relatively few pet memorial parks around southern CALIFORNIA.

 

I had no idea that TOTAL BLINDNESS was on the way for LOLA. Before she went blind I was still taking her to the beach and to parks and she was still running around—albeit much more slowly and cautiously. In fact, I was now taking her into the small dog sections of the various dog parks that also allow “geriatric” or “special need” dogs. She didn’t feel so compelled to compete with the smaller dogs. And I knew that even at her age and in her condition she still wanted to compete and run with the dogs as if she were a two-year-old.

 

That’s the thing about GOLDEN RETRIEVERS and maybe especially about LOLA—she had such a BIG HEART –and wanted to please and perform so badly—I actually had to hold her back sometimes—as she would still try to chase and run even when she no longer truly could. It was BREATHTAKING but also HEART BREAKING  to see her take her last swim & ball chase  in the ocean (unbeknownst to me until later that it would be her last swim)  some time in May at the beach in front of DONALD TRUMP GOLF COURSE. The waves were fairly strong that day—and I found a tennis ball—and I tossed it into the edge of the surf—which LOLA would normally have no trouble with. But this time she grabbed on to the ball and could only barely pull herself out of the surf back on to the beach—I was afraid I might have to go in and get her. BUT SHE MADE IT ! I have a picture of her coming out of the surf with the ball in her mouth J

 

It was only a few days or maybe the next day that she went blind as I recall. I remember that I had accepted an assignment to HAMILTON high school at around 5:30 a.m. –and was getting going with LOLA in the car as usual—and suddenly she had a major bloody nose episode—which I cleaned up with a paper towel and washed some water over her head. I was thinking about canceling the assignment—and taking her back to the vet again, but she seemed to stabilize and was sleeping again so I went ahead to the school—found a nice parking place in the shade and went inside. I told the secretary there that I hoped I would not have to leave in the middle of the assignment and she was somewhat gruff saying “WHY DID YOU ACCEPT THE ASSIGNMENT THEN ? “ I informed her politely that the episode occurred moments after accepting the assignment. I don’t think she had any idea how important LOLA was to me or that she went with me in the car.

 

Actually, I had started using dog day care periodically over the previous few months. I would leave her at these dog baby sitter locations not far from where I was on assignment—but was never too impressed with any of them. They seemed to be like money-makers for the owners and an easy job for the employees—not all of whom seemed to truly care for the dogs. Nonetheless, I thought LOLA might enjoy being around other dogs rather than in the car . But TO BE HONEST I truly believe LOLA wanted to be as close to me as possible—and that the days at the dog daycare made her more lonely and feeling abandoned. IF you recall, LOLA was given back or given away by her original owner –maybe that sense of abandonment never left her and made her all the more loyal to me.

 

Anyways, that day at HAMILTON HIGH was the day I realized she had gone blind. I had actually thought she might have a heart attack or some sort of stroke or seizure that would be the end for her that day given what had happened that morning but she seemed stable and was sleeping most of the day—albeit she was now blind !

 

I couldn’t figure it out at first. When I took her out of the car for a walk, once in the morning and again in the afternoon, she was hesitant and stumbled at the curb. I figured it was just part of the decline she was experiencing in general—not even considering the possibility of blindness. But at some point it just dawned on me that she was now blind for some reason.

 

And I cannot recall whether I noticed the tangible bump over her left eye before or after that—but the bump was obvious towards the end. It EXPLAINED EVERYTHING, which offered some sort of comfort—at least I knew the cause and knew ( or was informed) there was not much I could do about it.

 

For the next few weeks I was leading her by the leash making sure she didn’t bump into anything. If I didn’t lead her like a horse she would walk straight into things. It was very disheartening to see her like this—my GREAT DOG who climbed MT. WHITNEY with me. But she still had an appetite—although not much for dry dog food anymore. I was hand feeding her different types of meat and foods she loved the most. I took her to the park and grilled steak and other meat  while she lay on the grass nearby so patiently.

 

I was up in the TUJUNGA area one day grilling some meat at the overlook point when a gal pulled up in an SUV and looked at me and said, “CAN I HELP YOU IN SOME WAY ?” Her name was LINDA and she was new to LOS ANGELS from PHILADELPHIA. She was the first person to truly inquire and seem to discern that something was wrong. She was SO AFFECTIONATE towards LOLA and offered to bring some food or give me some money—apparently thinking I was down-and-out. I told her that I drive an old car but am not destitute and gave her some information about LOLA –which was her main interest, unfortunately (just kidding).

 

She came over and pet LOLA and actually started crying right then and there. She instinctively knew that something momentous was taking place—and sensed that we had been together for a long time. She also had lost her own dog some time ago and related her personal experience to me. I WILL NEVER FORGET that moment. And I got her email and we exchanged a few messages with each other over the next few weeks until I finally told her that LOLA was gone.

 

It was on JUNE 4 or 5 that I was in ALHAMBRA (CA) getting a haircut at my usual location when I returned to the car to find LOLA shaking and in a state of distress and noticed that things in my car had been moved around and overturned – I couldn’t figure out what had happened. The car was in a perfect place-very shady and it was not a hot day—so it was not heat or weather related. I realized I had to bring her back to the vet again and headed in that direction—towards CALABASAS.

 

I hadn’t gone very far when suddenly LOLA started acting strange and I looked back at her and her eyes were WIDE OPEN as if she had seen a ghost. Despite the fact that she was blind there seemed to be an expression in her eyes. Then she FROZE—I had pulled off to the side of the road by this time—AND was watching her—trying to figure out what to do. She froze and then her muscles started twitching and she started DROOLING. Oh yes, and her collar somehow had gotten in her mouth and she was CLENCHING on to the collar very tightly.

 

I knew from previous experience (with humans)  that she was having a SEIZURE. It was very obvious. Nonetheless, it was also frightening. I didn’t know how long it would last—whether she would come out of it, what effect it would have on her—it was very upsetting on top of all the other things that had happened in the last few months. And I should add that she hadn’t eaten for a day or so—she was no longer even eating what I would offer to her by hand—good tasty meat.

 

She did come out of it after a few moments and I took her outside and walked her in the grass. I sat and hugged her and kept hoping for the best. Then we kept going in the car towards the vet. It was too late to get there on time before the end of the day however, so I pulled into a parking lot as it was getting dark and sat there with LOLA—and I PRAYED –and said GOD—‘please give me a clear sign as to what to do with LOLA” –and I also baptized her. Yes, my friends, I baptized my dog—with water on her head, and prayed some more, and said, “in the name of JESUS I command all demons out of you…” a practice I had begun during FULLER SEMINARY under the guidance of a few professors. They believed that demons come in all shapes and sizes and can also cause illness.

 

Anyways, only a few moments later LOLA  started to go INTO A SEIZURE AGAIN ! I was e-mailing a few people at this point telling them what I was experiencing with LOLA and suggested maybe this was an exorcism. I was in the back of the car with her at this point and held on to her trying to comfort her. I also poured water on her head thinking maybe this would bring her out of the trance. I had been reading online on my handheld device about seizures in dogs  and tried to find the best instructions about how to handle it. Pouring water on her head was my own idea—not sure it helped. And then I just held her.

 

To me it was an affirmation that this might be the end. I wondered if this was directly a sign from GOD. Of course those who have no belief in any such thing would say it was merely a seizure at a coincidental moment, nothing more, nothing less. PERHAPS.

 

If there was any hope of prolonging her life, I didn’t know what it was or where to find it. I had read online about surgery for brain tumors and medication for seizures and inquired about it at the vet the next morning. But she wasn’t very optimistic given the type of tumor which was the probable cause of the seizures.

 

I knew that I had to MAKE A DECISION. By that time I had paid most of the costs for a burial place at the memorial park just around the corner from the veterinary. There was also a beautiful dog park just up 101 north where I had spent time with LOLA more than once. I told the vet, a young lady originally from NEW YORK CITY, that I was ready to “let go” but not until the end of the day. I said I would be back.

 

I had MADE THE DECISION, and it felt right but so wrong at the same time. I knew it was the BEST THING TO DO but didn’t want to do it. I took her back outside with me and went over to the memorial park where I walked LOLA over the site where she would be buried. We walked around the memorial park and I took pictures of her by the ST. FRANCIS OF ASSISI figurine. ASSISI is known as the patron saint of animals.

 

It was around EASTER  a few months prior  that I had taken LOLA to the BLESSING OF THE ANIMALS at OLVERA STREET SQUARE in downtown LOS ANGELES. I am PROTESTANT and this was more of a CATHOLIC event but it didn’t matter to me. I WANTED LOLA TO BE BLESSED and she was sprinkled with water by ROGER MAHONEY, a catholic priest. I appreciate the CATHOLIC attention to animals—perhaps more so than PROTESTANT tradition, and wondered why my own denomination didn’t do more for animals—even if it is just a symbolic sort of thing.  A lot of what we do in religion for that matter is symbolic.

 

That same day –I went over to LONG BEACH for the dog parade—not far from BELMONT PIER. It was here that I was walking around with LOLA looking at the other dogs in costume that I came upon a booth advertising itself as PUPERONI—animal treats. They had a motorcycle with a side car set up with a western highway façade behind it—and were taking free pictures of anybody with their dog in the sidecar. They said they would e-mail the photo in a week or so. They gave me a red bandana to put around LOLA’S neck and we hopped in. the gal behind the LAPTOP CAMERA said smile and she snapped the picture—and gave me a nod of affirmation—not sure why. A week later I got the picture in my INBOX and I realized why—it was a PERFECT PICTURE OF ME WITH LOLA –and I altered it a little bit and wrote KOK FOR PRESIDENT on the front of the motorcycle and LOLA MY FIRST LADY on the side car.

 

Ironically, although the photo is not “reality”—it does, in fact, reflect the life LOLA AND I LIVED TOGETHER ON THE ROAD  to a certain extent—much of it OUT WEST. And if I did have a motorcycle with a sidecar she PROBABLY WOULD HAVE LOVED IT. It really made my day. Subsequently I used that photo as a CALLING CARD of sorts –and also included it on my FAREWELL TO LOLA postcard that I sent out after the funeral. I was amazed by the resounding response I got from people based on that photo. It made people smile, laugh, and feel happy.

 

And that  is also when I began to realize that LOLA was taking on a SPIRITUAL POST-LIFE significance and she was resonating with people. For some reason many people did, indeed, at this point see her as something ANGELIC, beyond a mere dog. Even the lady, ROSALIA,  to whom I went for a tombstone—a place called ANGEL MEMORIAL over in MONTEREY PARK—affirmed to me that we would be together in heaven some day.

 

But back to the final hours of LOLA’S GREAT LIFE. On JUNE 6, as I was saying, I left the vet vowing to return later in the afternoon. After walking through the memorial park where she would be buried we went over to the dog park. It was a weekday and not very busy so for a while we had it all to ourselves. LOLA was barely moving, barely walking. Occasionally she would get up and take a few steps with me next to her. A few people came in and out with their dogs and I chatted with them—they immediately sensed that something profound was happening—and I told them frankly that this was LOLA’s last day, UNLESS A MIRACLE HAPPENED.

 

Some of them were on their 2^nd or 3^rd dog and related to me their own experiences. Some were very compassionate. One lady talked spiritually with me. For a few hours I sat on the wood chips in the CALABASAS dog park with LOLA literally on my lap.

 

I thought about being at the dog park over on IMPERIAL HIGHWAY by LAX only a few days ago and how when she entered in—all the other dogs surrounded her—strangely so. Here was LOLA, TOTALLY BLIND, and barely walking—but yet the other dogs seemed to be very INTERESTED in her. LOLA just stood there for a while as the other dogs sniffed her and tried to get her to play—and then suddenly SHE GROWLED AND SNAPPED—showing them she was STILL THE BOSS—and they all jumped and moved away. She still had SOME LIFE in her.

 

But now that life was almost gone. I could feel it—her body was GETTING HEAVY—she put all her WEIGHT on top of me. I wished I had the BREATH OF LIFE to bring her back, but she was not coming back. This was it—only a few more hours. That was how the final day went, with brief breaks as I went over to STARBUCKS for a coffee, bought a subway sandwich, and then finally put LOLA back in the car for the final time and drove back over to the vet.

 

I chose this vet because it was right next to the memorial park. I had met the vet, with LOLA, twice now—the first time a few weeks prior. At that point the vet did not think it was necessary to put LOLA to sleep, but on this particular day I knew it was time. So when I went back in at 3 p.m. I was willing, not ready, but willing. I was trying to TURN MY EMOTIONAL SIDE OFF—so that I could go through with it.

 

KERRY, the vet—a young lady from NEW YORK took me in one of the rooms—a typical white room with medical tools and bright lights. She was definitely trying to be nice, trying to be thoughtful, but it became clear to me that that VETS were trained  to be spiritually discerning about a dog’s life. It became clear to me that VETS are not given a pastoral care course in regards to the care of an animal or end-of-life spiritual issues—as they relate to the dog owner as well.

 

Having gone through seminary and having done a semester of social work internship at ST. MARY’S HOSPITAL emergency room in LONG BEACH as well as a quarter of CPE (clinical pastoral education) at UCLA MEDICAL CENTER—I had learned a lot about SPIRITUAL CARE of patients—and it struck me that the same type of care is helpful and even necessary for pet owners as they struggle with end-of-life issues. And just because you do SPIRITUAL CARE for others does not mean you do not need SPIRITUAL CARE for yourself from somebody else at your own end-of-life time or end-of-life time for one of your LOVED ONE’S.

 

And LOLA was DEFINITELY ONE OF MY LOVED ONES. In a hospital as it becomes clear that a human patient is coming to the end of his or her life—it is customary to call a chaplain or somebody from the pastoral care office to be there for the family or the patient him or herself—and to answer questions, pray, give last rites and/or communion –all depending on the patient’s religion and faith, if any; and according to what they want—nothing is imposed on them in their final hours.

 

LIKEWISE, why shouldn’t dog owners or other pet owners not have access to some sort of pastoral or spiritual care at the end of their dog’s life ? but if not that—what about making a room where the life of one’s dog is to be ENDED more COMFORTING. At that point in time I DO NOT NEED A WHITE, STERILE, MEDICAL ENVIRONMENT. In fact I DO NOT WANT A WHITE, STERILE, MEDICAL ENVIRONMENT.

 

I want a room with SOFTER COLORS, maybe even some MUSIC—SIMILAR TO A SMALL CHAPEL you often find in hospitals and medical centers. I WANT A BIBLE, a CROSS,  maybe some pillows , candles, etc. in fact, I even mentioned to KERRY that I would prefer to do this in the MIDDLE OF THE NIGHT. I mentioned that I wished LOLA would just die in the middle of the night as I am praying for her. She gave me an ODD LOOK---obviously not comfortable with spiritual talk.

 

Anyways, the first thing KERRY did was ask me if I was “SURE I WANT TO DO THIS…” My thought was that this is the WRONG QUESTION AT THE WRONG TIME. I definitely DID NOT WANT TO DO THIS. But I knew it was the right thing. We had already discussed at length that morning whether there was much hope and she, herself, was pessimistic and did not offer much hope at all. I thought the discussion was over.

 

 But she wanted to bring it up  again—and so we re-hashed some of the same things we said that morning—and then she brought out a LEGAL FORM that she wanted me to sign giving my AUTHORIZATION  to put LOLA to sleep. Again, wrong thing at the wrong time.  I wanted to get all the discussion and paper work over in the morning –I even wanted to pay for it that morning so that I could concentrate on SPIRITUAL CARE for LOLA in her final moments that afternoon.

 

And that’s where I am PROPOSING some changes in the way VETS do things. I know that there is a linear, sequential way in which doctors practice medicine—ruling things out one-by-one, like good scientists—but at some point they have to TAKE THAT SCIENTIFIC HAT OFF and put on the CARE HAT. And if they simply cannot do that—if it rubs them the wrong way—they must bring in a CARE PRACTITIONER or ask for some training in that regard. I am speaking to the VETERINARIAN SCHOOLS AS WELL .

 

And it made me reflect on an UNCOMFORTABLE chat I had with a different vet over in WESTWOOD not far from UCLA a few months prior—at which time the vet was suggesting several hundred dollars of testing for LOLA and I asked her why not try various medications first—to see if any worked—at which point we might be able to rule some things out. SHE SMIRKED and said “THAT’S NOT GOOD MEDICINE.”

 

You see—some of these vet’s SELF-IDENTITY is rooted in being a GOOD SCIENTIST—but the average dog owner or pet owner just wants GOOD WHOLISTIC CARE. In general, we don’t want our dogs to be poked and prodded and kept in little overnight cages for testing that MIGHT lead to a solution, but just as well MIGHT NOT—at least not at LOLA’s age. LOLA was fourteen years old—a fairly old dog, past the average age for GOLDENS which, according to one online site—is thirteen. TONS OF TESTING and prodding and poking , in my opinion as a care practitioner, is not productive for old dogs—and MAY EVEN MAKE THINGS WORSE.

 

This vet wanted to do a “ biopsy” to determine the cause of the bump over her left eye—but I was also aware that if it was cancerous—there was not much that could be done either medically or surgically for that type of tumor—but even if so—at LOLA’s age it might not extend her life too long anyways. SURGERY and/or chemotherapy is very invasive and while it has the potential to heal a dog or person it could possibly EXHAUST THEM to the point of death. A lot also depends on the emotional disposition of a person or dog. As I mentioned—LOLA often seemed worse after  a few days or even a day without me by her side—I believe it was the “abandonment anxiety” in her stemming from her initial experience with her first dog owner.

 

But try telling this to a SCIENCE-MINDED doctor or vet—they are not interested in your “lay person” anecdotal discernment. They SMIRK at that sort of “folksy’ stuff. BUT YET I AM SAYING THAT IF THEY ARE THERE TO SERVE US AS DOG OWNERS AND PET OWNERS that they need to be trained to talk with us at a LAY level—and need to be trained to understand and care for us at that level just as much as they need to be scientific.

 

I would have been MUCH HAPPIER having some trial medication prescribed than pour hundreds of dollars into overnight testing and observation that would separate me from LOLA and might take all the life completely out of her anyways. WHY COULDN’T SHE UNDERSTAND THIS ?

 

Back over to the vet on JUNE 6—despite having tried to avoid legal & financial issues during LOLA’s last hour—I ended up taking care of it anyways. I signed the form, I pulled out my credit card—hoping there would not be a problem –just imagine that they suddenly tell you we cannot do this right now because your card was rejected for some random reason. It’s hard enough being there as it is—you don’t want to go back out with your TIRED dog and have to come back and go through the motions and emotions again. FORTUNATELY, there were no problems and just as KERRY left the room with the legal form—LOLA STARTED HAVING A SEIZURE AGAIN !

 

I yelled to KERRY that it is happening again and she came back with a syringe filled with VALIUM and said this will settle her—although it was not the shot that would put her to sleep forever. At the same time her partner vet—a man from TRANSYLVANIA according to the website came in with the final injection. We were PUTTING HER DOWN in the midst of a seizure—I actually felt BLESSED that she suddenly had this seizure right then and there—it seemed to be a CONFIRMATION of my decision.

 

I just wished that the room could be darkened, that I had my own blankets for LOLA (that was my oversight) and maybe even some music or candles available to make it a truly SPIRITUAL END-OF-LIFE MOMENT ! But it wasn’t going to be that way. They injected her with the end-of-life potion and I stroked LOLA’s head as she went into the deep sleep—giving her a FINAL KISS as tears rolled down my cheeks. The male vet said, “I’M SORRY” and KERRY said “you can have as much time as you need with her in here.”

 

That was thoughtful but then I was told that after the heart stops beating the dog’s bowels and urine tract sometimes empty out. WHY not provide a pamphlet telling a dog owner this information beforehand? So there I was –LOLA was gone forever. I had to take her out of there—over to the memorial park. They thoughtfully offered a gurney and assistance but I felt I could carry her out on my own. I went and retrieved a blanket from the car with which I WRAPPED LOLA up and carried her out. There were a few counter girls who obviously did not know how to interact with people—they just STARED BLANKLY at me as if to say, “THAT’S IT, IT HAPPENS TO EVERYBODY.”  I actually felt angry at them and wanted to yell at them, but kept it inside. Caring for a LOT OF ANIMALS in a general way is a LOT EASIER than caring for one LOVED ANIMAL in a specific manner for fourteen years. It’s like the difference between a school secretary versus a school teacher versus a parent. The closer you get to taking care of the LOVED ONE the more important that loved one becomes.

 

I left the vet and drove over to the  MEMORIAL PARK and carried LOLA inside—she was in a LARGE BASKET I had bought a few days prior. THEY put her in a cooler and I told them I would be back in a week for the funeral. I needed time to BUILD A CASKET. That’s right I had decided to build my own casket rather than purchase one. It SEEMED MORE MEANINGFUL TO ME.

 

I bought some nice wood at HOME DEPOT and measured the exact specifications—and used hammer and nails to put it together over the next few days. Along the way I gathered various mementos and things that I thought memorialized LOLA’S GREAT LIFE—picking some shells from the beach, some sand, --even a bottle of PACIFIC OCEAN WATER collected at MALIBU beach.

 

I went up to BIG BEAR and gathered a bunch of the GIANT PINE CONES that are everywhere—to put next to her body. SHE LOVED THE OCEAN and she LOVED THE MOUNTAINS. She loved swimming in BIG BEAR LAKE—and I also vowed to get a BOTTLE OF LAKE MICHIGAN WATER for her later that summer—which I brought back with me and plan to pour over her memorial site.

 

I bought a little USA flag, an old CALIFORNIA as well as a MICHIGAN LICENSE PLATE at an old pawnshop in LONG BEACH—memorializing her life in the two states she knew best—and as a patriotic dog. It was partially a MEMORIAL for me as well.  A dog comes to reflect upon the DISPOSITION  of her owner. I also bought a beautiful CROSS to adorn the casket’s exterior.

 

All of this was THERAPEUTIC for me as it gave me SOMETHING SPECIFIC TO DO in the days shortly after LOSING MY FOURTEEN-YEAR COMPANION. It’s not like I just lost my driver’s license. THIS WAS A LIVING HEART—with a personality and a disposition and a certain sort of spirituality. LIFE IS NOT CHEAP, or shouldn’t be—NOT EVEN A DOG’S LIFE.

 

How we treat others, including animals, determines our own HUMANITY & SPIRITUALITY. The more you put into the care of another life, be it animal or human, the more you get out of it—and the more MEANINGFUL IT IS TO GOD OUR CREATOR !

 

I had exactly ONE WEEK to build a casket and get ready for the funeral. The memorial park had a room set up—LIKE A CHAPEL of sorts—where the final viewing could take place—and they included a music box as well as soft colors and chairs . I stained the wood a DARK MAHOGANY BROWN –and added hinges to the top plank so it opened and closed easily.

 

FINALLY, I printed several page-size color photos of LOLA’s life which helped me REFLECT ON THE GOOD TIMES WE HAD TOGETHER… from GRAND RAPIDS TO JACKSON WYOMING TO Coachella and MT. WHITNEY, and BIG BEAR, and various places in between and onward. I planned on attaching them to the casket with tacks—as a testimony to her GREAT LIFE.

 

The funeral day quickly arrived and I had all the adornments from the beaches, mountains, lakes, and forests ready ! some of them I put in the CASKET planning  on pulling them out when I arrived. I even put two of my favorite old shirts in the casket— which had been bloodied by LOLA’s nose during the last few months. I nailed the CROSS to the top of the casket and also put a necklace around LOLA’S NECK with a smaller cross on it—when I arrived.

 

But I was a little upset because when I did arrive—they immediately took my hand-built casket to the back and without any explanation or consultation went ahead and placed LOLA’S body in the casket—ON TOP OF SOME OF THE THINGS THAT WERE INTENDED FOR EXTERIOR DECORATIVE PURPOSES—or at least intended to be on TOP OF LOLA not underneath her body.

 

It UPSET ME because they did not consult with me or provide a pamphlet saying this is the protocol, etc. And I was not in the state-of-mind for wrestling with LOLA’s body in the casket to try to re-arrange things. Her body fit perfectly inside the casket and it was not easy to move her or anything she was on top of. I COULD HAVE OBJECTED and made a scene then and there—with SANDY DUNNAWAY –the lady manager of the place, but it would have RUINED THE MOMENT all the more.

 

SO I rearranged what I could without too much hassle—and spent the NEXT 30 MINUTES tacking the color photos of her life on the exterior and interior of the casket while the tape in the tape player played quiet SEASHORE music. That was thoughtful of the memorial park—to put out a few tapes and allow the dog owner to choose something. I said some PRAYERS and poured some anointing oil over LOLA’s head inside the casket. I added the pine cones and the tall GRASS that I had picked alongside the road by BIG BEAR. It was very SOOTHING and calming for me—and made me feel good about letting her go. She was part of GOD’S CREATION and going back to the CREATOR with the various aspect of GOD’s creation by her side.  It was a LIVING CASKET !

 

And it was at this point that I REFLECTED ON THE CHRISTIAN BELIEF OF LIFE AFTER DEATH—and the belief that TRUE LIFE ACTUALLY BEGINS after death on earth. And I reflected on my hope that LOLA would be with me in heaven some day. I had been reading what other people said and thought about an after life for animals, and there are those who also believe, like myself, that dogs can be spiritual, and dogs can  be “CHRISTIAN” and can go to heaven just like humans.

 

It is my belief that a dog or maybe other pets too will become “ONE” with their owner in terms of the owner’s belief and faith—and so if a dog owner is a CHRISTIAN the dog too will become CHRISTIAN—and will be with the owner in heaven some day. PRAISE THE LORD ! I can’t wait to see LOLA again.

 

And in the process of reading what other people think I came across two great quotes that I pulled out and pasted in different places, including one that I eventually put on LOLA’s memorial stone.

 

The first one is by Robert Louis Stevenson and I included it on the post-funeral postcard I sent out saying:  "You think dogs will not be in heaven? I tell you, they will be there long before any of us." –

 

The second one is by BILLY GRAHAM and is what I included on LOLA’s memorial stone and says in regards to dogs in heaven: “ I THINK GOD WILLHAVE PREPARED EVERYTHING FOR OUR PERFECT HAPPINESS. IF IT TAKES MY DOG BEING THERE  I BELIEVE HE’LL BE THERE’

 

 

I should note that this particular pet memorial park happens to be the home of a few “celebrity pets” as well, including, they say, the MGM LION, as well as the horse of LONE RANGER and/or TONTO, and the original LASSIE, among others. I didn’t look around or try to find these particular memorial stones—and the two ladies in the office didn’t seem too interested in pointing them out—when the topic came up in passing. In fact they SEEMED TO BE RETICENT about discussing ‘CELEBRITIES’ pets at all. It was actually in conversation with a few others that I found out more—as well as having read a little bit about this pet memorial park online.

 

But what I liked about this memorial park was that it was SPACIOUS and had a lot of GREEN GRASS and resembled a park that LOLA would love to play in. there’s only a HANDFUL of pet memorial parks around southern California and this one seemed to stand out in terms of the setting. I liked the colorful flags and twirlers and flowers that adorned the cemetery—making it somewhat playful and free.

 

So I SPENT THIRTY MINUTES WITH LOLA’s body—trying to make things as PERFECT AS POSSIBLE and snipped a few pieces of LOLA’S LOVELY HAIR off of her body as a reminder of her GREAT LIFE–but when the fellow came and knocked and asked if I was ready—I asked for FIFTEEN MORE MINUTES.  He was polite about it —and I spent a few more minutes adding the final touches. I had almost forgotten to take her COLLAR off—which would be a nice reminder and memento of her life. When the fellow came back and I showed him some of the photos—which he was nice about showing interest in. Then we took the casket out—put it on the golf cart and drove down the driveway towards the FINAL RESTING PLACE. The hole had already been dug—PERFECTLY RECTANGULAR.

 

TWO fellows, both LATINO, were there to lower the casket and throw in the dirt. They slowly lowered LOLA’S GREAT BODY down into the ground, with all the PHOTOS STILL ATTACHED. I considered taking them off at the last moment—the REALIST in me saying it didn’t matter—but the SYMBOLIC PART OF ME said leave them on—it is MEANINGFUL. And in retrospect I am glad I did—it made the casket SEEM ALIVE –more of a CELEBRATION OF A GOOD LIFE rather than a moment of mourning.  They offered to let me throw in the FIRST SHOVELFUL OF SOIL, which I accepted.

 

And I watched them SLOWLY BUT SURELY cover the casket until I could see it no more—and the SOD was replaced on the top. I thanked them for their participation and THAT WAS IT. I went back to the office and got the basket and blanket, then I went down VENTURA BLVD and found a flower store and bought a beautiful arrangement . I was going to leave it by the memorial site—but after returning and taking a  few more pictures I decided to take the flowers with me and give them to the veterinarian around the corner.

 

I left them on the doorstep with a note and a picture of LOLA as a young dog full of LIFE. And I thought about the fact that VETS never or rarely are included in the healthy life of the dog and their owners and thought they should get more pictures or videos of the good moments so that it is easier for them to enter into the SPIRITUAL aspects of a dog owner’s life, and the dog itself.

 

And that is why I am writing all of this as well—for veterinarians to read and appreciate—to MAKE THEM BETTER as well as make myself a better person. We, the dog owners, can be critical of veterinarian care—but if we don’t take steps to HELP MAKE THEM BETTER we should be just as critical of ourselves. If after we take such steps and the veterinarians still do not respond in good faith—then we have the right to be even more critical.

 

I HOPE THIS HELPS FUTURE DOG OWNERS AND VETERINARIANS IN THE END-OF-LIFE CARE ISSUES—making the final moments all the more easy and meaningful, separated from financial or biological concerns that NO LONGER REALLY MATTER AT THAT POINT. I would even have to suggest that if at the end moment there are financial issues that a veterinarian BYPASS any questions or concerns—and deal with that later. END OF LIFE is obviously a ONCE-IN-A-LIFE moment and needs the BEST SETTING to preserve the BEST MEMORIES and make the BEST OF A DIFFICULT MOMENT.

 

I suggest having an occasional round table with veterinarian staff and discussing end-of-life care and setting issues so that the customer is best-served and in the long run the veterinarian is recommended to others as being  sensitive and caring in addition to the ASSISTING STAFF. That’s a point I want to mention further—even if a vet, him or herself, is GREAT—and very compassionate and good at taking the SCIENTIFIC OR MEDICAL hat off at the last moment—but the ASSISTING STAFF is not—it could neutralize the good the veterinarian is trying to do.

 

The VET must be in command of the entire hospital or office—and MUST INSIST on the staff also being able to be COMPASSIONATE & CARING at the right moment. I understand that some vets or vets staff can also sometimes be judgmental or critical of the pet owner and wonder why the owner doesn’t pour every last cent into trying to save the dog (which is also good for their income of course) but let us be REALISTIC and know when to also TAKE  OFF THAT BUSINESSMAN hat.

 

DON’T WORRY. I assure you if you are good and dedicated there will always be ENOUGH to make ends meet. If you are trying to GET RICH –well then that’s a different story—and you have to ask yourself is that what being an ANIMAL CAREGIVER is all about ? ! Likewise medical doctors in the treatment of humans.

 

And by the way, I know HOW HARD IT IS to find good help, but we still must somehow find a way to compel the VERY BEST employee behavior.

 

When it comes to CAREGIVING let us TRULY BE CAREGIVERS –and I assure you—or more importantly GOD assures us that ALL OTHER THINGS WILL FALL INTO PLACE, accordingly !

 

YOU, the veterinarian or the vet office manager have the ETHICAL OBLIGATION to demand of yourself and all the staff that they dedicate themselves, when on the job at the office, to being the BEST ANIMAL CAREGIVERS they can be in all regards.

 

When we all do OUR VERY BEST in whatever profession we practice of job we hold—SOCIETY BECOMES much better in general—and we are all better off and happier.

 

GOD BLESS YOU ALL—and I hope this helps you as it has also helped me I n writing it out.

 

SINCERELY

 

JOHN P. KOK (coke)

PASTOR KOK III

BIG FAITH  

 

 

"The greatness of a nation and

its moral progress

can be judged by the way

its animals are treated."

– Gandhi--