Day Thirty-Four: Good-bye Lyla

I am meeting my old boss for lunch. We are sitting down at Club House, catching up. "You can do anything," he says. "I see you doing something entrepreneurial. You always want to understand the 'why'. In this business, there is so much bureaucracy and you often find yourself doing things that you are asked to do, without understanding why. You will thrive in a position where you are expected to ask that question and the answer matters." I tell him about the position I am pursuing and he thinks it is perfect for me.

I write to Tom and ask him the title of the position, realizing that I never asked. He responds, "I haven t really thought about it but something to the effect of Director of Business Development." I like the way that sounds.

I come back to my apartment and take care of some administrative things; unemployment, health insurance, bills, etc. I don't have internet right now because I used my neighbors/landlords before they moved to San Francisco, but Time Warner can't come until Thursday.  I've been doing everything on my iPad. I love this thing.

I need to order more contact lenses, so I am on the phone with Jen from 1-800 contacts.

I apologize for taking so long to find the number of the Cohen's Optical that ordered the contacts for me. I ask her where she is working. "Utah," she tells me.

"Do you work at a call center in one big room?" I ask.

"I work from home," she tells me.

"That must be pretty nice. Stay home with the kids?"

"No kids yet, but I get to wake up and sit down to work fifteen minutes later in my pjs. I love it." She is happy and friendly.  It is refreshing to talk to her, unlike the technical support at Time Warner Cable.

I get a call from Colleen from Far Fetched Acres, the doggy camp up in the Hudson Valley where Lyla will be spending her days while I am away.  Colleen is calling to confirm Lyla's pick up at 1:30pm tomorrow. I realize I am saying goodbye to Lyla for some time.  It's unclear how much time just yet, but I am sad to think about it.  I am going to miss her. I've spent all of my time with her in the past month.  On the road, I was almost never apart from her. I am attached to her.

Lyla and me last winter in Central Park

She is my buddy, always sweet, loving, up for anything, playful, affectionate, eager to please, smiling, gentle and curious. She is my world. It hurts me to say goodbye.

People change and dogs change too, and it is noticeable when you are away from them too long. Every time I leave Lyla she comes back different, more mature and developed. She is growing so fast. I hate to think about leaving her for a long time or for any period of time.  Something is missing when she is not with me.

Baby Lyla

I adopted Lyla a little over a year ago and that puppy has changed my life.  She is my baby, my best friend. She was nine weeks old when I picked her from Golden Hearts Rescue. I drove out to Ridgewood, NJ to see the puppies after finding them in my search on petfinder.com. She was one of a liter of six; three yellow puppies like Lyla and three brown puppies. Five girls and one boy. Lyla's mom was a Lab and her dad was a "Cheagle" or "Beagle-Chi," a Beagle and Chihuahua mix.  The owners of the parents underestimated nature's way and didn't spay or fix the dogs.  They didn't want the puppies so they brought them to a kill shelter in North Carolina, where Pam from the rescue found the puppies and brought them up north to find each of them a home.  I can't imagine that any of these puppies would have been euthanized. They were too cute.

When I came to the rescue, one of the yellow puppies had already been adopted. I played with the puppies for some time. They were so sweet, affectionate and playful. I noticed Lyla because she wasn't vying for my attention. She was just hanging out with her bone. When I engaged her, she was very receptive and playful. I decided she was perfect, especially because I was going to be working during the day and I wanted a dog that was a little independent.

She slept on my lap on the ride back into the city. As we crossed over the GW bridge, the lights from the city woke her up. She looked up at me. Her gaze sustained, locked on my eyes.  I had to pull over.  I looked down at her. I felt tears come up through my chest. I realized how much my life was about to change.  "You and me, we've got a lot of memories ahead of us," I told her.  "You don't know this yet, but we're going to be best friends." She was so small, so fragile.

That winter I hibernated with Lyla. She couldn't leave the apartment until she got all of her vaccinations. I would leave work if I could to stop home and see her and play with her.   I didn't go out or sleep in.  I woke up early to take her for a run or to the park.  I taught her how to sit, stay, lie down, come and roll over.  She loves to please me and she's anxious to learn.

Lyla always reminds me of what's important in life.  I look at her smiling and think, 'yeah, life is good.'  I've grown taking care of her. When I first got her, I had no idea what I was doing. All I knew was that I would love her, and I do.

Spending the past month with her everyday and every moment makes this even harder.

She looks up at me with her big brown eyes. "I am going to miss you," I say.