Departing the Sensory

  (Lola in Idaho) I can say with much confidence that Lola was a once in a lifetime type of dog. Lola loved her pack. Lola’s pack were people, particularly—I hope—John and me. I say “I hope” because Lola loved all people. She licked babies' faces. She crawled onto the laps of friends and family. And on countless occasions, she jumped into the beds of overnight house guests. What was remarkable about Lola’s indiscriminate love for all humans is that in her early years, humans betrayed her. We don’t know much about Lola’s background, but are nearly certain she was abused. She had scars on her paws, and when I first adopted her, she cowered at the sudden movement of a hand. Still, despite the betrayals of her early years, Lola continued to love both the stranger and friend alike. This, I believe, is a testament to her inherent forgivingness. We witnessed her forgivingness in more simple ways as well, such as her willingness to let me cut her nails despite my repeatedly cutting her q

Lola “Beastie” McCallum got her last scratch behind the ears on February 9, 2021 as snow fell softly outside. Born perhaps in West Valley City, Utah to unknown parents, she led a rough and tumultuous existence for three or so years before winding up in a Salt Lake City orphanage with many others of her kind. She was rescued from that circumstance by her gentle demeanor and the fine taste of her rescuer. The two were inseparable, immediately. Lola rolled in the marrow of life. She adventured with her companions in the mountains and in the desert, in forest and in sand and in snow. She treed squirrels in the Tushar Mountains and visited Pando, the largest living thing. She watched from the zone of totality in the Wind River Range as the moon blocked the sun during the Great American Eclipse, and she listened as the woods grew silent in awe. She explored the source of the Green River, and swam in the cold jade waters that give the river its name. She watched the full moon rise over the ci