2024

New year, new me.  Maybe, maybe not.  I hosted Christmas and New Year's Day at my house.  Put up the tree, cleaned everything.  I even put bright vintage lights outside on the porch.  I bought Alec, Temple and myself matching pajamas.  It was great getting half of December, off.  

For some reason, I feel uncomfortable saying that I miss Lola.  I feel like I am not allowed, because we have Temple now.  But, I miss her terribly.  I miss her face in the mornings.  I miss the way she waited for me in the window when I would come home from work.  I miss how she took over my half of the bed, pushing against me.  I miss her chill, when we would go outside and she would lay on her outside bed and I'd sit beside her.  I miss her smell.  

I worry that it sounds like I don't love Temple, but I do.  I feel guilty when I think of Lola while I look at Temple.  I am also not sure how to refer to my dogs.  I don't like calling Lola my "old dog", as if she doesn't exist any more.  Or calling Temple my "new dog", as if she is a replacement.  I speak vaguely of "my dog" when others speak of theirs, and I know they think I'm talking about Lola, because it was too painful for me to say that she died.  I need a term for it, but there isn't one.  

Work is busy.  I lost Rafael and Arecely, and they were replaced by five other kids.  I teach seven classes a day now with only thirty minutes of planning. I have a little extra time after my afternoon duty and I try to maximize it.  I want my lessons to be good, especially Intensive English.  

It got so cold here after the MLK holiday that we got an extra day off.  But, the Wednesday after, it was twelve degrees when I left for work and they made us come in anyway, around seven in the morning.  In the south, where people don't own winter clothing.  Where poor kids stand in the dark on unlit roads in hoodies, waiting a half an hour for the school bus.  I didn't agree with it, but obviously went in to work.  I signed in, then ran to my trailer to heat it up.   My morning phonics kids didn't even come to school, so I sat in the trailer, figuring out my day.  I heard a knock at the door.

"Eduardo!"  I exclaimed, grabbing him into the trailer.
He was all bundled up.  
"I am the only one who has to go to school today!"  he howled.  His mom was letting his little sisters stay home, because it was too cold.  We talked.  How was middle school.  How were the other kids from last year.  How was he.  I showed him pictures of Temple, still thinking of the last time he stopped by when I burst into tears because Lola had just died.  

"You look happy."  he told me, and smiled.  

Miss Universe

"So, we have to leave our apartment, you know, because of that thing I told you about."  
I looked at Rafael.
"When?"
"By the end of the year."  he answered.
Kids say that all the time, and then they don't move.  He was gone two days later.  I had screamed at him in class a matter of days before, something I don't usually do.  Now, I will always regret it, more than I would anyway. 

Antonio arrived a day after Rafael left.  And then, came Joya and Cati, straight from Mexico with no English.  The county has decided that they don't deal with Intensive English anymore and that we have to do it at our schools, whether there is time in our schedules or not.  Whether they actually provide us the materials or not.  Multi-million dollar budget, but you get what you get.   I want to do anything I can for these kids, but here are only so many hours in the day, and I want to do it right.  It took weeks to get these girls scheduled correctly and I still don't have the promised materials.  I am down to thirty minutes a day of planning and teaching seven classes a day.  I am running, running, running. 

I sort of like it.  Though I am done with the county not giving me a damn thing to do my job, I love these kids.  I am off most of my duty assignments and doing what I actually like, teaching.  I have to hustle to plan, but it's okay.  And, it keeps my mind off of Lola.  My baby.  My baby I lost.  

"We're moving."  Arecely announced.

"No," I responded, thinking she didn't know what she was talking about.  They usually don't.  And, my salt block, my child of salt, those are the ones that usually stay.  I included her and Flave-o-Flave in the Intensive English class I formed.  Flave and Joya weren't eligible because of their grade and Arecely had timed out of IE because the county did her wrong.  I figured if I was doing it, might as well include all of the kids that really should be in it. Even if my salt block was hard, a hard child, that often made other kids feel bad.  On purpose.  

"Miss Nicaragua won Miss Universe."  Arecley announced, a huge smile on her face.

"And then, they arrested her for treason.  That's why we had to go.  It wasn't safe for us anymore with Ortega."  

She never told us anything before.  That's when I knew she was really going.  

Christmas festivities took over the school.  I waited with my walking crew on the last day before our break.  The bus riders filed out and I saw Arecely, in tears, walking out of the door.  My hard girl.  My salt block.

I grabbed her and hugged her, hard, crying myself.

"Please take care of yourself."  I said over and over, knowing she was the only one that would.  

You're a Dream to Me

"You poo poo cha cha"  Eduardo's sister announced, shooting out of the kindergarten classroom. 

I keep thinking of all the things our vet told us when we took Temple in for her initial meeting.  You have to brush her teeth once a week.  They make a combo for heartworm and flea prevention that is actually good, you don't have to seperate them anymore to be effective.  They didn't say any of this shit to us before.  They are acting like my dog died ten years ago, but it's only been four months.  It's like she is being shoved into yesteryear.  I submitted Temple's DNA test, just out of curiosity.  It came back, um, pure Pit Bull.  I looked at the rest of my account with the company and Lola's results wouldn't appear.  Why?  Why not?  It kept saying there was an error.  I sat, looking at the printed results I have I of Lola's DNA.  I touched the paper, the picture of her.  

I watched the trailer for the new Nicolas Cage movie while I waited to see Priscilla.   That Cranberries song kept playing, loud.  I've never really been a fan, I'm neutral, didn't hate them, didn't love them.  Over and over again, I kept hearing 'you're a dream to me...' and I'd cry.  I'd picture Lola and cry.  In the car.  At work.  Wherever.   

Temple needs us, and I love her.  She follows me wherever I go, even into the bathroom.   I've stepped on her feet by accident, stumbled over her because she is always right next to us.  I've left her alone for a matter of minutes and came back in, only to find her heart beating out of her chest and her eyes, urgent.  She jumps up and hugs me, tries to climb right up me.  I want her to know that we will always be here, that she is safe.  At night though, when she sleeps in our bed, she doesn't push up next to me.  She sleeps alone, in a little ball at the foot of the bed.  And, she can't bark.  I wrap her up in the velvety blanket that is similar to the one Lola had, but in a different color.  

Papi and I went to see Liz Phair.  It was at the ASO site and she played the whole Guyville.  It was good, but another illuminating look at how old we are and how old everyone else is, too.  The songs seemed different, much different than when we tore that tape up nearly thirty years ago.  

It's Christmas Eve
in the drunk tank
you won't see another one
an old man said to me
.........
I turned my face away
and dreamed about you

I dreamed about you, Lola.  I dreamed about you.  

*Lyrics, Shane MacGowan, Fairytale in New York.  And Lola, I love you baby.   

The Moon

There are differences between Lola and Temple.  Temple's ears are a little thicker than Lola's were.  Her tail is, too.  Her fur is silkier and her eyes a little closer together than Lola's.  When she first came, I noticed every little difference but now, Temple is starting to feel 'normal'.  I am afraid that Lola is going farther away, it's like I'm always losing her more.  I think of when Lola and I drove back from Mexico together.  I hear people call their dogs their best friend or their companion or a variety of other things.  I don't know what I would call Lola.  I usually just called her the love of my life, kind of as a joke but actually en serio.  Sometimes I have this mental vision when I walk Temple, it's strange and I don't know where it comes from. We are walking through some sort of hellscape and she is with me, beside me and we are on a mission to destroy, enveloped in scorched-earth grief.  She's like my post apocalyptic companion. 

 

"You a toilet." Eduardo's sister stated as we walked up the hill during dismissal.
"You're a bathtub."  I answered.  

She giggled furiously.
"You a sink."  she responded.

"You're a toilet paper roll."

She shrieked.

It's a little thing we do, all the way up the hill.  She insists on holding my hand.  

"It's weird.  I'll think I'm doing okay and suddenly something will trigger me and I feel awful.  Once it was the moon.  THE MOON.  I didn't think that would be a trigger, but I was looking at it when I found out he died."
I wanted so badly to agree with my co-worker's sentiment.  It described my experience with Lola's death so precisely.  I will realize I am actually not feeling bad and then a dagger-like memory comes to me.  I can't walk down the hill at work in the afternoon without thinking of getting that phone call.  The hill is a trigger, or a book about a cloud, it can be things that are so random.  But I didn't say anything.  No one wants you to compare your dog's death to the death of a family member.  

"You a chicken nugget."

"You're a chicken thigh."

"You a bush."

"You're a tree."

She lets out crystalline giggles, all the way up the hill.  

I had to administer a standardized test to a particularly difficult kid this week.  He is not one of my students.  Three mornings in a row, sitting in my trailer with this kid whining and complaining, fake crying, being rude.  Dismissing me when I came to get him for testing, telling me he'd be ready in thirty more minutes.  Like I was his fucking servant.  Wasting my time.  I received two Intensive English kids that I am trying to prepare for but instead, my schedule was being dictated by a fucking brat.  Telling me he would hurry and finish his test so that he wouldn't have to hear my voice anymore when I wasn't even talking.  All I could think was yes, please hurry and get the fuck out of my face.  I understand this kid has a documented condition, but it didn't stop me from thinking some pretty dark thoughts.  

"You a house."
"You're a garage."
"You a apartment."
"You're a trailer."

More giggles.  

I actually start to think I might be the most hilarious person ever.  

An unpleasant neighbor of mine got sentenced to ten years in prison.  It was a nice little pick me up. 

I walked down the hall at the beginning of dismissal, collecting my walkers.  Eduardo's sister shot out of her classroom .
"You a chicken wing pig."  she announced, grabbing my hand and dragging me down the hall.  

Days of the Dead

I had one of those dreams that is happening right until you wake yourself up.  I was opening the gate to take Temple on a walk and suddenly, Lola was right behind us.  But, she was a ghost and she couldn't come.  She couldn't come on the walk.  But she wanted to.  

The day I picked up her ashes was bizarre.  I arrived at the pet crematory, a place that I don't even like to glance at when I drive past, even on a good day.  I told them my name.  They had texted me earlier, and asked if I wanted Lola cremated with her furry purple blanket.  Originally I said yes, then asked them if it was possible to save it for us.   

The lady at the desk looked at me and asked me exuberantly how the first week of school was.  I glanced down at my work t-shirt, realizing how she knew I was a teacher.
"Awful."  I responded.
She snorted at me with disapproval.  
"My dog died."  I responded, staring at her right in the face and starting to cry.  Hence my presence here, idiot.  

She sprinted around the desk and forcibly started hugging me.  I was actively pulling away and she actively decided that she was going to hug me.  It would have been funny if it wasn't so ridiculous.  I guess it is funny because it's ridiculous.  

"So, were they able to save the blanket?"  I asked, gripping the desk in an attempt to remove myself from her fucking rape hug.  She removed herself quickly from my body and ran back around the desk.

"I don't have any record of this."  she said coolly.

Suddenly, someone was all business.  

"Look, I can show you the text, I just wanted to know....."  I responded.  

Another lady burst out from the back and handed me the blanket in a plastic bag with Lola's name on it.  And, she handed me the box of Lola's ashes.  Apparently, I bought a rosewood box.  I could feel her ashes slide around inside while I carried it.  It was unsettling.  Is unsettling.   

It's been almost three months.  

The Cloud

As I walked up to my classroom trailer, I saw a Praying Mantis on the rail of the porch-ramp thing.   I immediately texted Alec, trying to find out what it meant.  Some people said it was a good omen, others, a sign of death.

I used to have the voicemails from Lola's vets saved on my phone.  The ones that said she was cancer-free.  I saved them for years, just to reassure myself that she was okay.  In August, they were followed by one that said something was very wrong with Lola.  Sometime in the last two months, I deleted all of the messages.  I'm not sure when.  Things are just not in a linear order for me right now.  

During pre-planning, I dropped a framed picture I have of Alec and Lola that I keep at my desk.  Some bejeweled pieces fell off the frame.  I remember being horrified and tried to glue them back on.  Now I see it as an omen.  

"Okay, good people."  I announced, while handing out ring pops.
"Eat these now or put them in your pocket to save for home because, you know, we aren't really supposed to have candy in school."  

"Yeah, but we don't really follow the rules."  Albinus responded, a little blue-toothed smile on his face.  I burst out laughing.  It's true he has never really been much of a rule-follower.  

For the last few years, I have been growing big Mexican marigolds from seed.  They always seem to come into their full glory around the first of November, coinciding with Day of the Dead.   This year, one bloomed early.  It bloomed on the day that Lola died.  

My memories of Lola feel like sharp shards of glass.  Certain music makes me think of her, music that sounds like it's from outer space, music that sounds alienating.  And the little sharp shards cut really deep.  

I entered the classroom to pick up my second-graders while they were finishing some kind of spelling test.

"Use 'burn' in a sentence."  the teacher instructed.  

I glanced down at Adrien's paper.  

"Burn the house down."  was written on it.  

For such an angelic looking kid, I did like his contrary sensibility.  

There is a picture of Lola that I can't find.  It's a picture of her face when she first woke up one morning.  Her dog sitter took it, one of the few times we went out of town without her.  Lola was gazing at the dog sitter, her face full of love.  I can't find the picture anywhere, no matter how many times I search.  

We made an appointment with Lola's vet for Temple.  We thought it would be a good idea, just to make sure she hadn't missed anything she needed while in the shelter.  As the appointment grew closer, I realized I was dreading it.  By the afternoon of the appointment, I found myself sitting in my fourth graders' classroom, thinking about how much I did not want to go into that vet's office again.  The last time I was there, I took Lola from them to transfer her to the overnight animal hospital.  They thought it was just a precaution.  Hours later, the animal hospital told me she had end-stage lung cancer and offered to put her asleep.  I kept thinking Lola's vet would find something wrong with Temple.  In my mind's eye, I kept imagining the vet saying I'm sorry, Hilary.  This dog does not have long to live.  

I got near the end of my kindergarten read-aloud of "Lizzy and the Cloud".  Lizzy let the cloud go, she was trying to do the right thing, the cloud needed the sky, a big space to live in.  But when it rained, she missed him.  

"and if she every spotted a particularly fluffy cloud,"  I read.

"she would wave...."  

I realized my voice was catching in my throat.  I turned my head, trying to stop the tears I could tell were forming. 

"Just in case...."  I finished, crying.

Just in case it was him.  Just in case she might maybe see him one more time.  

The Pouring Sun

We pulled into the driveway and I took Temple into the backyard.  She immediately rolled on her back with her legs in the air with an expression I can only call a dog smile on her face.  Then, she stood up and hugged me.  She wrapped her arms around my waist and stood there for a very long time.  Then, she started running and jumping around the yard, launching herself off of retaining walls that Lola wouldn't even think about.  

I realized that though the shelter thought she was two years old, this dog was definitely a puppy.  A really pretty, soft puppy.  I couldn't believe that she was just one in a million at the shelter.  I looked at her little ankles.  They didn't have radiation scars like Lola's did.  They were silky and pristine.  Her body shape reminded me of Lola, but she was literally less than half the size of my baby.  It was odd, she felt different.  

That night, she jumped on our bed.  We set up the bed the shelter gave us, but she launched onto the memory foam that is honestly, intoxicating.  Alec and I had already discussed the sleeping arrangements.  Lola was our dog and she slept in our bed with us.  If the new dog wanted in, we weren't going to say no, but we weren't encouraging it.  Temple made a quick decision and it was that night, around two in the morning, when I woke up with her sitting upright between Alec and me, just sitting there, straight up.  

I woke up again later.  It was odd looking at this little dog, laying in such a similar position as Lola, but so small.  She had her little blanket pulled up on her and she laid with her legs straight out, like a square.  But so little, and self-possessed.  

October is my favorite month of the year.  The cooling temperatures, Halloween, changing leaves.  Lola loved it, too.  As soon as the air got cooler, she would get very wily but also, reflective, on her Coolaroo in the backyard.  We took Temple on walks.  I liked walking with this dog, and walking with Alec.  I noticed him smiling, charmed by her.  

I woke up the next night and Temple's head was laying on the pillows between Alec's and mine.  I had a three day weekend, when I figured I could try to acclimate her to our house.  I kept feeling guilty about how excited I was to be near her.  Then, one day I just felt guilty and cried all day.   The little dog laid with me on the bed, the way Lola used to when things weren't going well.  

"Do you think we should adopt her?"  Alec asked.
"I think I'm there."  I responded.
"I mean, how would we feel if someone just applied and took her from us?  Could we trust it?  What if they abandoned her a couple of years later?"  he continued. 
"I know.  And we know that would never be us.  But where does this all lead?"  I asked, starting to cry.
"Laying on the floor with another dog that dies."  I whispered.  

I still just keep crying.   I went to Los Angeles a month ago.  It was a trip that was planned before we knew Lola was passing.  My sister and I would arrive on the eve of the Grito, Mexican Independence Day, hang out in a city I like though everyone tells me I shouldn't, and see the closing night of The Pixies tour at the Hollywood Bowl, with Modest Mouse and Catpower opening.  It was overcast the whole time we were there.  It sort of fit my mood.  We stayed downtown, between Olvera Street and Chinatown, any area that I don't think is very popular with tourists.  One day, we walked miles to go to a Mexican vegan place.  We crossed over the bridge where the Grease race scene and parts of Repo Man were filmed.  We walked forever, under the gray sky, dodging unhoused people and human feces.  It was my favorite part of the trip.  I keep listening to Frank Black's first album and everytime I hear "Los Angeles", I cry and think of Lola.  

I filled out the application to adopt Temple on October 9th, two months to the day that we lost Lola.  I found Temple on February 9th.  We were approved later that afternoon and now Temple is ours.  

She is our dog.