Good Mutt

Thanks to the time-stamps on old digital pictures, I've figured out that Lulu was older than I thought she was—she was actually somewhere near her 16th birthday when she died. That's old for a dog her size.

I reviewed a lot of pictures. All things considered, these are my two favorites. I've published both of them already—apologies if you've seen them before.

This was one of a number of shots from the first day we met her. I got her from my friend Gabi, who had found her wandering homeless and starving in a park in Chicago. Gabi had three elderly cats at the time, and the rescued puppy was not being viewed with approval by those established members of the household, hence the group email to her friends asking if anyone wanted a dog. I'd been promising Xander we'd get a dog for three years at that point, long enough that he had already decided it was a broken promise. After the introduction, the four of us—three people plus dog—went to the park after picking up lunch on the way. At this point Lulu is about nine months old, and her condition had been much restored by visits to the vet and three months of good food at Gabi's.

I love this picture and have ever since I took it. I'm not entirely sure why. Most pictures we love just tug at our hearts somehow, or intersect with deep feelings in some way. They tweak at something in the psyche. This light, the sky, the expanse of grass and the distant trees, her pose, her expression—the picture has a feel for me that brings something up. It must remind me of something deep, although I don't know what. I love it.

This second one is the opposite of a snapshot. In the cold Wisconsin winters, Xander would settle down on the couch to watch The Simpsons and Malcolm in the Middle, and Lulu, who had a very short coat, would ask to be let in so she could get warm and get some loves. I made a number of attempts to get a good picture of this scene over a period of months, but I was never satisfied. Finally I set up a monolight next to the couch, pointed it at the ceiling, and just left it there. When I wanted to try a shot I'd just plug the camera in and take a few quick ones. I finally got this.

Of course, no one cares how hard you worked, but this is more an example of the opposite—you work as hard as you need to. If you haven't gotten the shot you want, keep trying until you do. I'm 100% happy with this one too.

Both of these were taken with my first DSLR, the Konica-Minolta 7D. That was one of my three or four favorite cameras of all time. It was to me like the Nikon D700 was to a lot of other readers...the camera that did it all and did it the way I wanted it to.

As an honorable mention I might pick this one:

Taken with my first decent cellphone in 2015 when we were moving in here. Of course this one doesn't really say a whole lot about Lulu, except perhaps to me. She had a way of standing around when there was nothing going on that interested her. I'm sure I took this picture just for the light and sure enough, I like the light.

Old girl
Naturally, Lulu's age is just an estimate. She was a foundling from the park and we don't know for sure when she was born. But this is curious: we got her from Gabi on May 20th, 2006; Gabi said she'd had her for about three months, the time when she bedeviled Gabi's venerable felines; and the vet Gabi took her to when she found her estimated her age to be about six months. If you subtract exactly nine months—three plus six—from May 20th, you get August 20th as her birthday—which just happened to be the date of her death. If August 20th was really her birthday she was exactly 16 the day she died. But the "three months" and the "six months" are only an estimate and an educated guess, respectively.

Gabi managed to locate Lulu's previous owner, who turned out to be a pretty sketchy fellow. He kept wanting not his dog back, but money. Gabi actually tried to deliver Lulu to him. The best she could figure is that he was breeding fighting dogs in his seedy Chicago row house—his yard was full of the kind of training aids that are used to increase the aggressiveness of fighting dogs, and, from the barking that came from house, Gabi thought there were at least six and maybe as many as nine dogs inside. As to how Lulu escaped from her captor, we have only circumstantial evidence: 1.) the fellow had a cast-iron fence surrounding his side-yard that was topped with pointy metal spikes; 2.) when Lulu was found she had a leg wound, a gash on her inner thigh; and 3.) when Lulu was young she had a prodigious jumping ability. We just put two and two (well, one and two and three) together. Our conclusion was that she was a smart girl who knew a bad scene when she saw it and figured out she'd better get the heck out of Dodge—so she leaped the fence, cutting her leg in the process, and eventually made her way to the park. In any event, I always had it in the back of my mind to take especially good care of Lulu partially on behalf of her littermates, who didn't jump that fence and might have suffered worse fates.

I'm not going to get another dog, but I did spend some time last night filling in several online questionnaires about what breed might be best for me. I was just wasting time. The correct answer is probably "mutt" anyway. Like Lulu, who was the mutt for us.

Mike

Book o' the Week

Bystander: A History of Street Photography by Colin Westerbeck and Joel Meyerowitz (Laurence King Publishing, 2017). First published in 1994. In this revised edition, the story of street photography is brought up to date with a re-evaluation of some historical material, the inclusion of more contemporary photographers, and a discussion of the ongoing rise of digital photography.

The above is a link to Amazon from TOP. Here's Bystander at The Book Depository. The following logo is also a link:

Original contents copyright 2020 by Michael C. Johnston and/or the bylined author. All Rights Reserved. Links in this post may be to our affiliates; sales through affiliate links may benefit this site. As an Amazon Associate I earn from qualifying purchases.

(To see all the comments, click on the "Comments" link below.)
Featured Comments from:

David Raboin: "That was a beautiful write-up and excellent photos. Lulu will be missed. When our dog, Jack, passed two summers ago, I found myself mourning the passage of time as much as mourning the loss of a beloved family pet. We adopted Jack a year before having our first baby. Jack was with us when we struggled with a newborn and lived in near-poverty. Jack was also around when we bought our first house, had a second baby, and then bought our dream house. I'll remember Jack as my trail-running buddy with his bushy tail blowing like a flag in the fresh winds of California, but I can't think of that dog without having a flood of emotion about becoming a parent and surviving the trials of early adulthood. I imagine it's somewhat the same for you. Lulu's life coincided with the second half of Xander's childhood and watching him grow into an independent man. Go throw the ball for Butters and wallow in those bittersweet memories."

Kenneth Tanaka: "Lovely remembrance, Mike. Yes I remember those first two images. There is no higher purpose for photography than to help keep the dead alive in the minds of the living. No medium serves that role as well as photography. Our home is sprinkled with photos of a deeply beloved pet that we lost five years ago...but thanks to those photos he's still 'here.' Thanks for sharing this with us. Give Butters a big smooch."

robert mckeen: "Great pictures and memories. The one with Xander sums up what it is to have a dog in a family, more than any words could say."

Sylvain G.: "A beautifully written and illustrated little tribute. Sorry for your loss, and be proud of how she lived!"

Benjamin Marks: "What a wonderful life Lulu had! Not its beginnings, obviously, but in its scope and sum. It is in a dog to love unconditionally. Something about their natures, and ours, allows each to make space in its heart for the other—across whatever lines divide us. I often joke that our Moxie and I make an ungainly symbiote. She lends me her superpower by alerting us to the smell of strange squirrels who run riot beyond our fence. I lend her my superpower, which is planning for dinner. You will feel like reality has a Lulu-shaped hole in it for the next little while. But maybe on the other side of that balance beam can be all the satisfactions you brought one another over the years. Your remembrance suggests as much, and I hope it is so. Love, love, love the pictures."

Comments

[Dave Levingston]

Mutts are the best dogs. I'm sorry for your loss.

[David Dyer-Bennet]

It seems like many of the breeds that people train as fighting dogs (a practice I can't really say enough against; it disgusts me at a really deep level) are, if not so trained, or even sometimes if given a good opportunity to recover from such training, among the best people-oriented dogs. From what I've read, the trainers essentially exploit their deep need for human approval to turn them into killing machines (which is why it disgusts me so deeply).

And then this becomes part of the reputation of the breed, and causes them trouble going into the future, and makes it hard for people to have some of the finest dogs.

[Peter]

Thanks for sharing that Mike. I enjoyed reading it and hopefully you benefited from writing it. And sorry for your loss. It seems clear that you and Lulu were both lucky to have each other.

[Phil]

That's a lovely reminiscence for Lulu. I'm sorry she's gone. It sounds like she was about the same age as my last dog when she passed away. That was almost eight years ago. After several years of "not getting another dog", I'm now a year or so into the "going to get another dog one of these days" phase. Some dogs are just hard to "replace" and so it takes a while to get over them, I guess.

Oh, and, those are excellent photos of her (and Xander). I can see why you like them so much.

[John Camp]

I lost my German Shepherd two years ago to cancer. When we got him, his ears were completely shredded, and the shelter people thought he might have been used as a fight training dog. He either ran away or was thrown away; he was a large dog, but completely emaciated -- he weighed 30-some pounds at that point. When he died, he weighed 70. We've had a Belgian Malinois for four years, so they overlapped; but, things weren't right without Scout. A friend at an animal shelter (we only take rescues) called us two days ago to say they had a young male German Shepherd come in; it was being neutered that morning. We picked him up the next day, and today is the second day we've had him. Huck -- Huckleberry -- is home in a cone, and things are looking good with Willa, the Malinois. They are of a size (large) and share a ball fetish. Huck & Willa. Any day you get a new dog is a good day.

[Antonis]

Mike, I'm so sorry for Lulu's passing. Can't imagine how it feels to you. This post brought a lot of emotion with it, though. Thanks for sharing all those details and moments...

[Marc Lawrence-Howe]

The second photo immediately reminded me of the episode of The Simpsons called Bart's Dog Gets An "F". This might not mean anything to you if you didn't watch, but it might to Xander.

(It's a good thing, I promise)

Cheers,
Marc

[Thomas Walsh]

It is a true blessing that you and Lulu found each other.

[Dan Khong]

Mutts are dogs too and all dogs are man's best friends. Seems a dog will love you and wag its tails till it dies of starvation even if you did not feed it. Or is that just legend?

Thanks again for that discourse and it is certainly a worthwhile digression from cameras and lenses (and quartz watches).

[Mark Kinsman]

Sorry for your loss Mike. You gave her a great life, she loved you deeply.

[John Robison]

Thanks for this post. I’ve never been a dog person, preferring cats. But the love this article conveys is heartwarming and reveals much about the person writing it. In retirement and over 70 both my wife and I agreed, no more pets. To care for them properly requires considerable funds and more importantly our hearts become so wrapped up with them. However life happens as they say and when an elderly friend passed we inherited her pooch. And, as I both hoped and feared at the same time this sweet little creature has me completely besotted. In years past I had wondered about big old guys walking little dogs, now I’m that guy. We have now taken in another rescue dog, a very nervous little terrier who promptly bit me three days after we took her home. (Not her fault, just panicked when I tried to lift her.)
Now the first rescue has already trained the newest arrival on how to stare reproachfully at the big dumb human to get whatever you want.

[Richard Ripley]

Hello Mike:

I very sorry for your loss. I've been following your posts about Lulu with great interest and I'm sad that she is gone. Thank you for sharing her life with me. It means a lot to me. I'll be thinking of you.

[Roger Overall]

I saddened to read she’s passed, but glad she had a happy life with you after such a grim start.

[Scott R.]

My old guy Bosco made it to the age of 16 as well. After his loss, we couldn’t fathom “replacing him” - so we had a period of nearly 2 years without a furry friend to love on. Then, we finally decided we were ready to start looking. That first day we went to the animal rescue, we saw a sleeping puppy and somehow knew immediately that he was meant to come home with us. 2 years later, Koji has made our lives so much better and I can’t imagine the past couple of years without him. The time with them never seems long enough and I totally understand the hesitancy to go through the pain of loss again, but there’s lots of great dogs out there looking for a good home and a loving companion - and the value they bring to our lives is immeasurable. So maybe try not to be too firm about “never again”. Maybe it’s better to say “not right now”. Or, maybe just take a look at what’s out there - a trip to the animal rescue never hurt anyone. ;)

[Peter Komar]

Mike, sorry to hear about Lulu, do I understand that you have no dogs in your home presently? If yes then I think you will miss the wagging tail when you either walk in the front door or get the lease for a walk, or just have a conversation with her/him. Saving a mixed breed dog from a local shelter is one of many things we humans can do for animals that we share planet earth with. I think you may be getting a dog sooner than you think, all the best to you. No matter what the topic is or what emotional experience you write about it is all just superb reading.

[Graeme Scott]

Lovely pictures of a lovely dog. And lovely writing.

[Bill Pierce]

Mike, I'm sorry you lost a friend.

[Kodachromeguy]

Wow, what a frightening story of Lulu's original home. It's horrifying that there are such disgusting vile humanoids in our society who will raise and abuse dogs for fighting for the only purpose of gambling by similar vile humanoids. A pox on that mindset and that class in our society.

I love that picture of your son and Lulu.

[robert e]

Thanks for sharing that beautiful story, Mike. You did good by her and I agree with Peter: you were both lucky to have found each other. My condolences.

[scott kirkpatrick]

Your description of a puppy not appreciated by three elderly cats made me smile, but I guess you rescued her from this cramped fate.

And my copy of Bystander II just arrived. (Bystander I is on another continent, so why not?) My first impression is that it is indeed a total redesign (with flashy design bits that you may not care for), with lots of new pictures since 1994, and a thoughtful discussion of how the major figures of the first edition have evolved, and of the changing objectives and new faces of the last 25 years. So it's worth going for the second copy.

[Rick Reed]

If you haven’t already read Eugene O’Neill’s “Last will and testament of an extremely distinguished dog”, you should. And then come back and tell us again that you won’t get another dog. 😉

https://nilesanimalhospital.com/files/2012/07/The-Last-Will-and-Testament.pdf

I am indeed sorry for your loss, our dogs have a way of burrowing deeply into our hearts.

Rick

[Rob L.]

Never apologize for sharing pictures that you love, or of those you love. Thank you for sharing her with us, and so sorry for your loss, and her passing.