In Memory of Louisette
Thank you, Louisette!
I knew the inn was full when I offered to foster Louisette. But she was twelve and a half, deaf, and described as very frail with mobility and skin issues. While I knew, ours being at least her third home, that I would not ask her to move again, how long a commitment was I actually making?
As it turned out, a week shy of a year was way too short. She stoically sat next to me on the ride home. She ate the vegetarian dinner her mom had provided. She tentatively explored the little dog yard and took care of business. But when I was contemplating where to place her crate in the bedroom that first night, she confidently took herself up the stairs to the bed and claimed the spot next to my pillow. And never looked back!
True, she was completely deaf, with failing eyesight and frozen hips and stifles that caused her to bunny hop, but she was true Frenchie through and through. She never let this prevent her from enjoying life! She loved playing with toys that skittered across the floor when she pounced on them. Hmm, Emma the cat skittered too, what fun for both, as Emma always came back for more. Louisette explored every inch of the half-acre back yard. She would hop across the lawn with bursts of speed, then go back to deliberate investigation. When I put in a doggy door, she was the second to figure it out. Once she started on a regular diet her coat came back in sleek and glossy, and she filled out her attractive figure. When I picked up the dishes to feed she magically appeared at my feet. She especially loved riding in the van during her personal “mommy time”. And she was a favorite at the DD drive-thru. Louisette always let me know when she wanted out, or dinner, or it was time to go to bed. With just one authoritative bark, so intense it lifted her off her front feet. No response? Repeat every thirty seconds until the human obeyed.
Louisette celebrated her thirteenth birthday with her new family in December and was going strong until the last couple of weeks. When the dementia appeared the progression was dramatic. I made a vet appointment, hoping for a magic bullet. But the neuro problems progressed to anxiety and muscular tremors, and that last night she could not be consoled. Her cries told me she was ready and we made the midnight run that sent her peacefully on her way to the Bridge. I hope she is waiting for me with all the others who have gone before. I miss the snoring that became white noise, drifting off to sleep with my hand on her, the laughter when she made demands, played with the others, ran with abandon. Louisette, thank you for the joy you brought to our home, God speed Funny Girl.