I like Lola a lot. In fact I love her.
As I am beginning this post, there she is, at my feet, lying down and pondering over the state of the world. As I leave for office, she would normally come to the door and with a pensive look, retire to a corner. And when I come back, she is always there right at the door (except when she is fast asleep) to welcome me. She would stomp her paws, walk briskly up and down and then follow me at my heels, apparently thrilled with life. She knows when I would not take her with me in the car and when I would. When I am off to office, she is resigned to staying confined within the four falls. At other times when she senses there is half a chance of being taken on a ride in the car, she would run out through the open door and go briskly down the stairs as if telling me – stop me if you dare, I am coming with you.
She has a way of communicating her needs and her feelings. When she wants me to give her water in the cup of my hands, she would go to the toilet door and wait for a while, facing the door. If I do not notice, she would groan, growl or bark loudly till I go to the bathroom to pour water onto my cupped hands for her to quench her thirst.
She also understands it is wrong for her to pass urine or stool in the house. On rare days I do not take her for her walks, she has no way other than to answer the call of nature in the house. She would then keep as safe a distance as possible from me, and with a bowed, contrite head she would sit, waiting for my discovery and eventual outburst. I would make it a point to shout at her and see her cringe, despite knowing fully well that she had no other recourse and I was the culprit.
Of course, I tend to her. I share with her the meaty part of meats, medicate her fungus affected parts of her skin with ointment, carrying her up and down the stairs whenever I take her out, bear her irritating ways while she is out with me for a walk, give her bath once in a while and ensure her bed sheets are changed occasionally. I enjoy doing these for her.
We communicate perfectly well and we understand each other. I can talk to her about my problems and she would stare at me with a knowing concern. I can be myself with her and do not have to contemplate about being anyone else. I let her be. And she understands there are certain boundaries. It is a perfectly happy relationship.
I wish I had relationships with one or two human beings that mirrored the simple joys of being with Lola. Where everything would be predicated by love, understanding and acceptance.
Above anything else, I want someone to look at me in a piercing sort of way, read me and tell it, as it is. There is this part of me that want to move ahead, grow soulfully and make progress all the time.