In Memoriam: Leela

Look! Look well, O wolves! My heart is heavy with the things that I do not understand. The gentle Leela, last of her line, has passed unto the ages. She races hot-foot to join her Ancestors. Beau greets her patiently and wisely as she takes her place in the pack. Youthful again, swift, and happy, she leaves us behind without a whimper. She is home.

Every time I've written a memorial for the dogs in her line, I've used a Kiplingesque opening. My kennel name, after all, is LoupGarou. It's fitting to associate dogs with that affix with a pack of wolves that counted a Man amongst them. But Leela, she was the last of my Beau, the founder of that pack. I won't use that opening any longer. My heart is breaking. It's the end of an era that began almost a quarter of a century ago.

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For those of you who never had a chance to know this beautiful girl, Leela (LoupGarou You Geaux Girl) was the granddaughter of my heart dog, UAGI, AKC and UKC Ch. LoupGarou Kajun-Fox Beausoleil, CD, RN, RA, NA, NAJ, CGC (BeauDog). His daughter was my wonderful Ch. LoupGarou Christmas Bayou (HollyBerry), who was born on my nameday (Dec. 22). Leela was born in my lap, which makes it all the more fitting that she was lying up against me when she passed. In her final days, she was always pressing up against me, next to my feet or on my lap when I was at my desk, leaning up against my leg if I was cooking or washing dishes, snuggled close to my head or at the small of my back when I slept. I think that I kept her oriented in her space, as she was deaf and blind. After Copper passed, I took over his role for her.

Leela was a beautiful puppy, the brightly-colored white and tan with a blaze that melted my heart. I'm a sucker for a dog with a blaze face! But even though I thought she was adorable, I never intended to keep Leela. Her color was approaching a "fox red," considered inappropriate for a white and tan (sable) Toy Fox Terrier. She was way too sensitive, too "soft" to use in a terrier breeding program. I knew that for the right person, she would make a great pet, as she was warm and affectionate and loved to play with toys. It broke my heart, but I sold her to a woman who was looking for an older puppy/young dog to add to her household. She and her husband were both professional people and they had a fenced yard in a nice neighborhood. Perfect, I thought, for my little Leela.

I was never more wrong about a placement. After a month, the woman called me, so angry, because she had no idea what she was going to do with Leela. Leela had had the usual settling in issues that came with an older puppy, but nothing that had seemed extraordinary. Her new owner demanded a full refund, or she would take Leela to the shelter and "let them deal with her." When I picked her up that night, I literally had to pour her from the other woman's carrier into my own. Leela was limp--I never felt her limp like that again until this morning (July 3, 2025). She had given up. I didn't ask the other woman what had happened. I didn't want to know. I wanted to get my dog safely home and not have to beg people to get me bail money. I wanted Leela to die at home. I promised her that she would be with me for the rest of her life, no matter how long that would be. And she was. We moved to a new home in her lifetime and a few times she's stayed at Dan's, but I never left her for long.

The morning after I brought her home, all those years ago, Leela was acting as if she had regained some interest in life. Her grandsire had come to visit her, crawling into her crate and making his presence known. BeauDog was also known as "Dr. Beau," because he showed such concern for any person or animal who didn't feel well. Her mom had growled some encouragement into the crate (Holly language was all growls). Over a long period, her interest in life came back, although she never played with toys again. As long as things didn't move too quickly and she was allowed to make her own choices, she did fine. One thing remained from her experience, however: for as long as she had her hearing, Leela was terrified of loud noises. She would melt into the floor or wind her way around my feet. One day she followed me outside into a thunderstorm because she was more terrified of being alone with the storm noises than of the storm itself. I will never forget nor forgive the terrible trauma inflicted on my Leela.

Over time, Leela grew older. Every day with her was a gift. Even if she hadn't been one of the sweetest and most loving dogs I've ever had, just knowing how close she had come to dying from a broken heart made every day special to me. Throughout the years, she loved her outdoor time. She loved to sit in my lap. She loved her "Leela Peela" song. She slept with me every night. She got the best food and, when she started losing weight on that food a month ago, she started getting scrambled eggs, cheese, and milk along with her vitamins. She lived a spotless life, free of any other trauma. She never had a serious injury. The one time that she had any stress--she'd gotten stuck trying to go behind the couch, my poor, blind girl, she stayed calm until I could get her out. She had no doubt that I would fix it. She never had to fear being left without care.

Most of her final day was spent close to me, in my lap or at my feet under my desk. I shared a few snacks with her: Leela? Tap her shoulder. Hold the treat in front of her till she found it. She'd take it gently, always gently. She loved anything I gave her, as long as she could handle it with her few remaining teeth. I wish that I could remember what our last treat together was. I think it was some Cabot's Seriously Sharp Cheddar Cheese. Auntie Kathleen gave it to us last time I was in Monroe. I think I'll run with that.

Leela's final night was spent with me, Yaddle, and Penni in the bed. When I woke up, Leela was curled behind my back where she often slept, when I pulled her up for her morning hugs, she was limp. Leela had gone ahead of me onto that next great adventure, where Beau plays tug with her and Holly growls at her with affection. I've awakened three times now to a knowingly Leela-less world. I'm torn, numb, bereft. She was the last of the great BeauDog left in the world and I was unprepared for it. Truly, their like will never come again.