In Man of the House: Life with the Lady at the End of My Leash, yellow Labrador Mac, calls Mary and all humans “leashers.” In the first of a series, I talk with leasher Vivien Vitolo. Vivien is a visual and story driven creative spirit which led her to the world of advertising and television. As an East Coast based freelance writer, director, and producer, her career has spanned platforms and positions, including the Creative Director/Director for Macy’s Beauty Campaign; Talent Producer of Apples 2018 Keynote at BA; and Story Producer on OWN’s Network’s special “Oprah Goes to Broadway.” With her continuous advocacy for diversity in film-making and her “let’s do it” enthusiasm, Vivien is looking for new mediums to connect people through stories.
1. Tell me about your dog.
My dog passed away January 2020 when she was 12. She was a 7-pound black Pomeranian and her name was Boo. My favorite holiday is Halloween. She looked like a cat so I named her Boo. She was in congestive heart failure for 2 years. I was lucky. We had bonus years.
2. What attracted you to the breed, and did you get her as a pup?
I was going through a really bad breakup and was not looking for a dog. But I knew when I did get a dog it would be a black Pomeranian with a white paw. My best friend came across this puppy and said, “You have to meet her.” I told her, “That’s fine, but I’m but I’m not getting a dog.” And then she and I met. She was two weeks old and weighed two pounds. I picked her up, she crawled up on my shoulder and never left. That was it for me. It was undeniable that she was my dog.
3. Did you have dogs growing up?
I had a little black poodle named Shadow. She was a family dog. She was alive when I left for college, but she passed away when I was in finished college. Boo was my dog.
4. You mentioned she helped you through a breakup. Were there other times throughout your life together that she was there for You?
Oh, every day. Every night she slept on her side of the bed on top of the pillow. We were so connected. She wasn’t needy or yappy. Her disposition was precious. She was there for the good times and the bad times. She was with me when my Dad passed away. She was there for me more than I was there for her. We were just partners.
5. Can you tell me about the day she died and the grieving process?
I guess you could say I started grieving a year-and-a-half before she died. Boo was perfectly healthy her whole life. In August (of 2018) I came home, and she had this high-pitched yap. She collapsed and stopped breathing. I was trying to breathe into her as I drove her to the hospital. They told me she had torn an aorta and had blood around her heart. She was in congestive heart failure. They didn’t think she would make it. She was in the hospital for four days, and they wanted to keep her longer but there were financial considerations. I asked them what I could do to create the best-case scenario? They told me to keep her calm and keep coming back to see if the valve heals and the blood around her heart goes away, and we would go from there. They helped me put Boo in the car. When I got home, I disconnected the doorbell and put her in the back of the house where it was quiet. The first three weeks were the most critical. I kept her in her crate. She loved her crate. I slept on the floor next to her. No one was allowed near her. I gave her medicine three times a day and cooked all her foods because she couldn’t have sodium. For a year and a half that was our regimen.
On the day she passed away, she looked a little blue when I got home from work. That night she couldn’t get settled so I got out of bed and took her to the hospital. She wasn’t in any pain, but her breathing was labored. She was stable and sleeping so I went out to my car to rest since it was the middle of the night. They woke me up and told me that she had passed. While I wish that I could have been with her in the back, I feel like she knew she wasn’t getting better. She knew I was never going to make the decision to put her down. She made the decision for me. I could have never put her down. I say that with full confidence.
It was expected but still unexpected. You’re grieving a family member. I’d never had that experience with a pet. With Boo I, we were so intertwined. I never actually understood how connected we were until this happened. It was really hard for a very long time. For the first two months, I had to relearn how to live my life. I was used to cooking her food and giving her medicine three times a day. She wasn’t waiting at the door when I came home or coming around the corner. It was hard sleeping without her. It was awful.
6. What nicknames did you call Boo?
Boo Boo, The Boo, Baby Girl.
7. Did you sing any songs, play any games with her?
No songs. Our favorite game was to play like hide and seek under my blanket. I’d put my hand under the blanket, move it and she would find it. She was happy to be with me and walk everywhere. She loved the dog park.
8. If she could talk to you, what would she say to you?
I hope she said she would say, “I love you. We had a good time.” When she was alive, she would probably say, “Would you stop dressing me up in these ridiculous outfits?” She was a great sport when I would dress her up for Halloween. She would sit there and let me take picture after picture. She was totally into it, but at the same time she was looking at me like, “Isn’t one picture enough?”
9. What else would you like to tell me about Boo?
She was a precious, happy dog. We were connected. I’m an only child and she was my family. She was calm, and the connection felt like an extension of my Dad.
10. Are you going to get another dog?
If you had asked me a year ago, it would have been “Hell no. Never again. She is my one, that’s it.” With a little distance, I don’t know that I could live without that kind of love in my life.
Author’s note: The love that we have for our dogs stands beyond reason. “She was there for me more than I was there for her.” A striking sentiment considering the care Vivien gave to Boo.
