Lulu
A donation was made in memory of Lulu by Mark, Anne, Ty, Ella and Porter on Nov 01, 2021.
We lost our Lulu yesterday to cancer. She came into our lives as an 8 week old puppy, and left us, as always, way too soon and with 11 wonderful years of more great memories than we could ever count.
Lulu was richly endowed with the Lab puppy property-destruction gene. She devoted many hours to its call, laying waste to, among many other things, an entire exercise room. Notable among the debris was the treadmill belt, all of the non-metal parts of the weight bench, bike pedals, scarred walls and molding, and a huge section of recycled rubber flooring. She showed no remorse.
One of our favorite Lulu-as-a-puppy stories is the day she caught a ground squirrel in our backyard. Mary noticed her playing with something suspicious, and I went to take a look. As I approached her, she just sat with it hanging from her mouth, staring me right in the eye. When I was almost close enough to intervene, she tossed it up into the air, caught it, and swallowed it whole. I could hear her laugh as she ran off.
As she matured, her sense of humor developed into a love of pranking her son Grover and fine-tuning her ability to crack herself up. She knew she was funny and reveled in it. And Lulu had a superpower – Inconvenient Positioning. She was a genius at sizing up a situation instantly and picking the one location to lie down in that would cause the maximum amount of nuisance value to humans and other animals wanting to move about. She could do it just as well on her feet too, backing up just in front of you as you went from place to place.
Lulu grew into a smart, affectionate and easy-going companion. She was always up for a hike, a swim or a romp in the yard, but was just as happy lying quietly by the side of the nearest human, getting her belly rubbed. As a Lab, she was, of course, a great retriever, but mere ground retrieval was best left to others. If water was involved though, she ruled. Her favorite part was playing with her ball in the lakeside mud.
Her main interest in life was food, and there was little she wouldn’t eat – even lettuce was acceptable. Her favorite – entirely Mary’s fault – was coffee. If you had cup in your hand, you also had Lulu sitting right in front of you, never taking her eyes off that cup. Lulu taught Grover and Iggy to be coffee freaks too.
Lulu’s greatest moments came with motherhood. She birthed 8 puppies to whom she was totally devoted, and she spent every moment she could caring for them. When she was separated from them for a few days of weaning after 4 weeks, she couldn’t wait to get back to them, even with her belly shredded and nipples chewed raw from tiny sharp puppy teeth and nails. Here’s a short video of her teaching the pups to play: https://youtu.be/x9Drc0HHKIM
The Lulu-sized hole in our lives will always be with us as the price we must all eventually pay for the joy we experienced with her. She will be missed terribly, but she’ll never be forgotten for the gifts she gave us.
Good girl, Lulu!
Lulu was richly endowed with the Lab puppy property-destruction gene. She devoted many hours to its call, laying waste to, among many other things, an entire exercise room. Notable among the debris was the treadmill belt, all of the non-metal parts of the weight bench, bike pedals, scarred walls and molding, and a huge section of recycled rubber flooring. She showed no remorse.
One of our favorite Lulu-as-a-puppy stories is the day she caught a ground squirrel in our backyard. Mary noticed her playing with something suspicious, and I went to take a look. As I approached her, she just sat with it hanging from her mouth, staring me right in the eye. When I was almost close enough to intervene, she tossed it up into the air, caught it, and swallowed it whole. I could hear her laugh as she ran off.
As she matured, her sense of humor developed into a love of pranking her son Grover and fine-tuning her ability to crack herself up. She knew she was funny and reveled in it. And Lulu had a superpower – Inconvenient Positioning. She was a genius at sizing up a situation instantly and picking the one location to lie down in that would cause the maximum amount of nuisance value to humans and other animals wanting to move about. She could do it just as well on her feet too, backing up just in front of you as you went from place to place.
Lulu grew into a smart, affectionate and easy-going companion. She was always up for a hike, a swim or a romp in the yard, but was just as happy lying quietly by the side of the nearest human, getting her belly rubbed. As a Lab, she was, of course, a great retriever, but mere ground retrieval was best left to others. If water was involved though, she ruled. Her favorite part was playing with her ball in the lakeside mud.
Her main interest in life was food, and there was little she wouldn’t eat – even lettuce was acceptable. Her favorite – entirely Mary’s fault – was coffee. If you had cup in your hand, you also had Lulu sitting right in front of you, never taking her eyes off that cup. Lulu taught Grover and Iggy to be coffee freaks too.
Lulu’s greatest moments came with motherhood. She birthed 8 puppies to whom she was totally devoted, and she spent every moment she could caring for them. When she was separated from them for a few days of weaning after 4 weeks, she couldn’t wait to get back to them, even with her belly shredded and nipples chewed raw from tiny sharp puppy teeth and nails. Here’s a short video of her teaching the pups to play: https://youtu.be/x9Drc0HHKIM
The Lulu-sized hole in our lives will always be with us as the price we must all eventually pay for the joy we experienced with her. She will be missed terribly, but she’ll never be forgotten for the gifts she gave us.
Good girl, Lulu!
