Nearly 19 years ago, I was walking in my neighborhood as I often do now, and noticed a stocky, brown puppy trying to keep up with an older women, who was moving as if she was trying to lose him. I asked her if he was her puppy, and in Spanish along with some body language, it was clear to me that he was not. I walked toward him as he ran to me, me scooping him up into my arms. His tired head dropped onto my shoulder, and just like that he fell asleep. After some funny greetings with my then-dogs, I dispersed signs throughout the neighborhood, but no one came forward. Of course, we were quickly falling in love, and he was already a member of our family.
I cannot really begin to sum up Louie in a few sentences, but I will make a an attempt. He had a rather comical, yet serious personality. Do dogs know they are funny? We humans seem to think so. He often smelled like corn tortillas. He loved going for walks, sleeping in “his” favorite chair, eating almost anything and being the first one to finish, and barking at the dogs on the other side of the fence. My favorite was how he loved cleaning Sophie’s ears – a behavior that I believe to be an affectionate and tender moment between them that lasted till the very end. He was a devoted studio dog, always sleeping near me when I was painting. My partner found him to be a good office dog as well, usually there with him every evening. He did become a bit grumpy in his older age, no sense of humor left, probably due to aches and pains he could not tell us about. The house is oddly quiet, even with one dog now living here. My dear boy, Louie, we miss you so.