Journey in my 40s

Opening Our Hearts Again: The Journey to Lula

September 4, 2025 | by Cheryl Gass

lula

Opening Our Hearts Again: The Journey to Lula

I didn’t think we’d ever get another dog so soon. Not after losing Unix.

For 16 years, he had been part of our family’s story—raised from a tiny pup to a wise, gray-muzzled companion who stayed faithfully by our side. When he passed, the silence in our home was deafening. His absence was everywhere: in the empty spot by the back door, the missing sound of paws on the floor, the quiet backyard where no ball was chased. I told myself we’d wait years before opening our hearts again. It felt safer that way.

At first, I almost believed it. Life without a dog had its small conveniences: no rushing home to let him out after a long hike, no mess in the yard. But then the kids and I started stopping by shelters and breeders “just to look.” We’d pet wagging tailed puppies and play with eager dogs, telling ourselves it was only for fun. Yet something was shifting. I could feel it every time I pictured laughter filling the yard again, every time I imagined a tail wagging at the door when we came home.

Finally, the thought I’d been resisting spilled out: Maybe it’s time for a new puppy. To my surprise, James didn’t hesitate. He joined us in our search—and that’s when we met Lula.

She was small, curious, and bursting with energy. One look at her and I knew. On the car ride home, our oldest, Makayla, held her close the entire way, already taking on the role of “puppy protector.” She chose the name Lula, a sweet fit we all agreed on immediately. Of course, we’ve learned it’s a bit of a tongue twister, so Lulu has become her nickname—a perfect reflection of her playful spirit.

What I love most is how seamlessly Lula’s energy matches that of my children. For years, they had grown accustomed to a slower, quieter dog. But now, laughter echoes through the backyard as they sprint across the grass, with Lula chasing at full speed, leaping high against their legs, retrieving balls, and smothering them with puppy kisses.

She has transformed our home. Every afternoon, the kids rush inside after school, dropping their backpacks to greet her first. And she greets them right back with all the love in her tiny body.

We will never forget Unix—he will always be part of our family and our story. But Lula has reminded us that the heart’s capacity for love only grows. Her presence hasn’t replaced what we lost; instead, she’s expanded the joy in our lives, bringing us into a new chapter filled with love, energy, and hope.

Pets have a way of teaching us what matters most.

They remind us that even after loss, joy can return in unexpected ways. They show us how resilience often comes in the form of wagging tails, muddy paw prints, and sloppy kisses. Most of all, they remind us that love isn’t limited—it only multiplies when we let it.

Here’s to Lula, to Unix, and to the simple truth that our homes—and our hearts—are always big enough for more love.

RELATED POSTS

View all

view all