A note from your favorite blogger: I originally began this post on the morning of Sunday, October 10th. That Saturday, my dog Lola (who was home with my 2 brothers while I was on vacation) had been rushed to the Vet for heavy breathing and lack of mobility. X-rays were taken and an enlarged heart was discovered. Medication given and recommendation for follow-up on Tuesday. She had a bad night and that morning I asked my brothers to take her to animal urgent care. It was from Mexico that I had to make the decision to put her down because there was internal bleeding and she had gone into cardiac arrest twice. It was my worst nightmare being so far away when an emergency of that magnitude happened. It is now 10/19 and I am finishing this post in honor of the best beagle there ever was (besides Snoopy but he’s fake y’all). I MISS YOU LOLA! Bestest.
We arrived Wednesday in San Jose del Cabo and instantly felt like we were “home.” It’s just a feeling but after having stayed here a month in April, it kind of is hogar (home). And the best part is seeing our friends and family again!
Wednesday evening my Aunt Maye (the holy water connoisseur), my cousin Paul, his wife Ana and my favorite little girl Catalina met us out for tacos. We were tired after 6 hours of travel but happy to see everyone. Catalina was shy at first but after she remembered who I was, she warmed up. It also didn’t hurt that I brought some little regalitos for her – a book with Mickey & Minnie to learn her letters, a Frida Kahlo bracelet (she’s part of the club now!) and a handmade “C” from the souvenir stand in Loreto. It was this evening that we first learned about a potential hurricane headed towards Cabo. I’ve never been in a hurricane but I’m good. Some experiences I don’t need.
Thursday we hung around the pool trying to figure out what to do now that we have a car and a private chauffeur (I call him “Dad”). We decided on Friday to head to a non-tourist beach but the water was non-Swimmable due to tropical storm Pamela (great name for a storm) headed our way.
Saturday morning was the beginning of my nightmare but it started off so lovely… breakfast with Catalina + family at Lolita’s cafe – the irony of the name of this restaurant has not escaped me and I think it was a sign or premonition that something was to happen. Especially since the restaurant my aunt wanted to take us to had the road washed over by a water pipe break and even her off-roading Jeep wouldn’t ensure we didn’t get stuck. I’m not about to help push a car out of mud; I’m on vacation. So Lolitas was our 2nd choice. The backup plan. It was at Lolitas cafe that I got a call from my Brother Bear that “there’s something wrong with Lola.” And that’s when she went to the local Vet.
Sunday we went with Ana and Catalina to another local beach but the water was too rough to do anything but run away screaming from the waves (all me, Catalina was mimicking her crazy Tía Amy). It was on that beach that I changed my flight to come back Monday instead of Wednesday (hoping to escape the storm) since Lola would be seen at the animal hospital and I wanted to be there because I honestly thought they could just “fix” her. We went home from the beach and lounged around until our dinner reservations at 7p in town.
We arrived at Habanero’s and barely ordered our drinks when the Vet called with an update on Lola: severe internal bleeding, maybe a tumor, nothing much we can do but we could stabilize her, maybe an oncologist follow up, some words, blah, I dunno. I also got a heartbreaking 💔 text from my brother who witnessed Lola go into cardiac arrest twice. I lost it. But made one of the hardest decisions ever to put her down. She didn’t need to suffer anymore. Dad got the check and we rushed home – I was whole-body crying at the restaurant at this point.
Back at the condo, I signed the forms for dog euthanasia and opted for her ashes to come back to me. I’m not sure exactly why I said yes to getting the ashes back or what I would do with them but my mind was shutting down with sadness. It felt like I went through a whole bottle of tequila that night (and I might have to be honest). We all cried a lot. And I felt like a little kid having my mom hug me as we sat sobbing and watching “Peter Pan” together.
I flew out the next afternoon and when the customs agent asked what I was bringing back from Mexico, all I could respond was “a broken heart.” I got home and drove to Riverside because the thought of being alone in my condo was too much. I’m back in San Diego now and the sadness comes and goes. But Lola is no longer pained and as much as I miss her, it was the right thing to do.
There She Goes... 