I'll never forget that fateful summer afternoon in late august. After months-- nay, years of lobbying-- I had finally worn down my parents in my quest to secure our home another four-legged comrade. At long last, my mom relayed the news that the precious pooches we had been waiting on were ready to find their respective homes, and this meant it was business time. So I hopped into the car and voyaged to Western Mass (or what felt like that location). When we arrived, I knew the drill, strictly business. The weight was on my shoulders, being the youngest member of the family, I seldom was held eligible or responsible for this kind of thing. But this wasn't my first barbecue, and I knew what had to be done. If there was one thing I was certain of, it was my ability to complete this task.
I'll never forget her face. As a gaggle of bouncy white poofs surrounded my Jack Rogers, I fought my natural girlish impulses to ooh and aah. As I kneeled down to their level, I caught a glimpse of the little face hiding beneath the rosewood coffee table. As I backed away just so, this puppy peeked its bashful face. And, in her impish, gamine charm, she quickly caught my eye. I knew in that moment it happened that all I had known was over. Everything fell away, all other thoughts, all other feelings. She was mine, and that would be that.
Admittedly, I saw much of myself in this little fluff ball. Shy on the surface, just waiting for someone to be patient and believe in her. I recognized (as a once painfully shy and private child), that all it takes is that of a few good and patient individuals to bring out the other layers. I knew that once there was someone to get her out of her shell (a job I felt obliged), she, too could be the politician I had seemingly blossomed into. (To transform from hiding behind your mother's leg to eagerly introducing yourself to every smiling face.)
I named you Lilly-- yes after Pulitzer. But, a name that seemed more apropos even as my style changed and transformed with every month thereafter. You were white and went with everything, much like how white is the only solution to the endless patterns, colors, and inherent moods that Lilly Pulitzer's patterned chaos provides. This simplistic comparison is merely a brief reflection upon your adorable ability to go with whatever was thrown our families way, and with an exuberance and colorful optimism in which only the brand loyalists could begin to fathom.
There will never be a saturday of my sophomore year I don't remember fondly, primarily due to Lilly.I've wasted a lot of time in my life…. On the wrong people. Wrong friendships, indulgent inattentiveness, and the list goes on--- but one period I will always be confident in as a good investment are those weekend days I spent with her (and Mac). During a time of stress, popularity, insecurity, and crippling ambition, she provided me a sense of duty and opened my heart to something bigger than my selfish impulses. She saw me as I stumbled through post-adolescence -- witnessing my strife with societal standards, the media, my family, my friends, and mostly, with myself. And through all the pain, impulsivity, mistake, regret, heartbreak, and selfishness, she never flinched.
Only later can we look back in the comfort that perspective brings.
Raising you and loving you and having you in my life will fulfill my dreams and break my heart and lead me to experiences beyond imagining. I will never be the same. I am still learning from you each and every day. I want to have more genuine pure fun in my life, and I admire your ability to do that, little dove.
Good-bye Lilly. My sweet little baby. I can't thank you enough for all your help. For taking such good care of me, and for the fun and friendship. Love you mean it.Always and forever,Megan