When you love like Lola loved, you are larger than life.
When you live like Lola lived, you don’t leave anyone feeling small.
But when you leave us, we can’t imagine life without you.
Her DNA may have indicated that Lola was felis catus, a domestic cat, but we knew the truth. Her species was life.
Although she was generously sized, Lola’s body could hardly contain her. There were galaxies behind those gemstone eyes, and lifetimes under every lump and ripple. She prized every atom of her existence, and refused to walk when she could sashay.
Yet for all the Copacabana jokes, Lola was no showgirl. If we enjoyed her flamboyance, that was fine. But she did not flaunt her pizzazz for an audience. Lola was simply delighted by the opportunity to be Lola. Lola enjoyed being Lola so much, she decided to be more and more “Lola” every day.
But even when you are larger than the planet, you need to have breakfast somewhere. And so it was that Lola became the luminary of our medical office at Tabby’s Place.
Here, she would have uninterrupted access to her most beloved, brilliant humans, our vet team.
She would only see other cats in two states, both of which she found satisfactory: either unconscious on the surgical table, or behind bars in the post-op penitentiary. (I can neither confirm nor deny that Lola went up to the “jailed” patients and yelled “noiny noiny noin.” But if she did, she had her reasons, because Lola never did anything wrong, ever.)
She would surprise herself by tolerating Angelo, and then Steven. She would make history every day.
I suppose I should acknowledge Lola’s … history.
When you are made entirely and exclusively of life, sometimes you overflow. There were times when Lola’s radiance blurred with rage. Her reputation preceded her, and we all proceeded with caution.
All … except Drew.
There are friends, there are soulmates, and then there are bonds beyond the bounds of Earth. We cannot plan or predict them. We can only welcome them as the gifts of a lifetime.
Drew and Lola shared such a bond.
From the beginning, our Veterinary Technician was Lola’s smitten champion. With no fear of Lola’s rap sheet, Drew kissed and cradled her.
As much as Drew loved Lola, the vivacious tuxedo adored her “mom.” Drew’s devotion nurtured Lola like a morning glory. She showed us all a glimpse of how lush and lavish life can be.
She seemed on track to live forever.
Cancer crept up sideways, as cowards always do. There were spotty symptoms, then serious concerns. The prognosis was hazy, yet not without hope. Amputating Lola’s leg could stop the spread of her cancer. Knowing Lola, this inconvenience would not break her stride.
Meanwhile, Drew and Lola were making a pact of their own. It was time for Lola to move in with her “mom.” Life was about to grow even bigger, with every hour as large as love.
Nobody knew how few hours remained.
Lola’s surgery was a success, but her cancer was in full gallop. Her legendary appetite waned, and her temperature soared. A blood transfusion (from donor Nerf) seemed to bring back her zest, but within a few days she was anemic and weary again. It was Drew who made the call.
When you love someone more than life, you love them beyond the thin walls of this life.
Lola’s final hours were spent in Drew’s arms. She left our world with grace, peace, and dignity. She lived so large, her absence is a presence.
Yet Lola is still here, urging us to remember our size. She has loved us, and she expects us to live like it.
Until we meet again, glorious girl, thank you for your immeasurable love.
No words can do justice to the bond Lola shared with Drew (who provided all of these amazing photos). The following reflection comes from the heart that loved Lola most. Thank you, Drew. You are the true meaning of love.
“It’s hard to put into words what Lola meant to me.
“As I write this, it just becomes more and more real that she’s gone, and it breaks my heart all over again. But an amazing girl like Lola deserves a good send off.
“Many of you might only know Lola as the black and white cat screaming her head off at the vet room door, begging for food like she’s never been fed a day in her life (I promise you she was fed multiple times a day). Lola came to us at a very well loved 19.2lb, and, oh boy, did she know how to use her size for evil!
“In the first couple of weeks, you would often see messages going out to staff saying, ‘Lola is mean.’ Or, Lola hit me.’ It was safe to say even the most experienced staff were afraid of Lola.
“But our staff didn’t give up trying to make Lola comfortable, and after moving her out of a cage and into her own room, we all slowly got to see Lola’s one of a kind personality shine through. I’ll never know why Lola chose me as her favorite, but I’m so glad she did. We pretty quickly became buddies and soon we were doing almost everything together at work.
“Lola spent her afternoons helping me with the medical supplies ordering and inventory, eating my snacks, and sitting next to me on her own personal chair at our desk. She would also spend her afternoons doing not-so-helpful things like growling at Jon, trying to eat the tape off the tape dispenser, sitting on top of the syringes and spilling them everywhere, and — her favorite activity — running out the door and into the hallway, over and over again. 
“There were a very few people she truly liked, the majority she tolerated, and a special few she absolutely hated (so sorry, Jon). But, that’s how she wanted to live her life, and who were we to judge?
“She always had a lot to say, but was also a very good listener. She was my partner in crime. Lola was very loved by her former family and by her Tabby’s Place family. There is no doubt in my mind that Lola knew she was absolutely adored. Lola, I love you and miss you. My world is not the same without you.” – Drew
Such a special bond that defies explanation. Drew, you made a loving and selfless choice when you knew it was Lola’s time, as heartbreaking as we all know it is. You were a gift to each other.