The first thing people typically notice about Libby is her suede-like, pewter fur, which is so short she almost looks like a statue when she sits still. She is graceful beyond words. For ten years when she sat, her bum hovered slightly above the ground—she clearly was too genteel to let it touch the ground. When she lay, her front paws are always crossed. She has floppy ears that feel like velvet and the most soulful grey eyes that tug at your heart as she stares knowingly at you. I’m so thankful I didn’t listen to anyone’s advice not to adopt her back in early 1997. I can’t possibly imagine life without her.
As I watch her limp in the cold, damp mornings in our garden in Notting Hill, I brace myself for the day. Once she ran fast as a greyhound with abandon, and now, after she sprints, she comes limping towards me with a look that says, “This really is tragic.” The day will come. As someone wise once said to me: purchasing a dog is investing in impending tragedy.
It may be true, but so worth it.
I think back to that awful day in Los Angeles and I shutter to imagine what could have been without Libby. We had bought a house in Westchester, a neighborhood near Loyola Marymount University and near the airport. We couldn’t afford to buy in Santa Monica where we had rented a house for three years previously. We moved in 2002 during a time when the LAX airport was surrounded daily by the military with hand-to-shoulder rockets and Los Angeles police at every check point. In fact, police gave neighbors their cell phone numbers since they could no longer patrol our neighborhood. Westchester was made up of (more) affordable bungalow homes, had a strong parent association, and many young families with children. But it was also close to many freeways—and without police presence due to a 9-11-type of threat—Westchester became an easy target for gangs.
We were given warnings. First our neighborhood grocery store was hit by a Chinese gang with sawed-off shot guns. Then my bank branch was held up. Two other stores in walking distance to my house were robbed at gunpoint and an elderly neighbor struck by the butt of a rifle. Another elderly neighbor was attacked while walking his dog—a Latino gang member took his wedding band.
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