In Loving Memory of Nola
The Heart of the Family
July 21st 2017- August 14th 2025
Some dogs walk quietly into your life... Nola was never just "some" dog.
Nola didn’t walk in casually—she marched in and found her way straight to the heart of her family before they even knew that they were hers.
One afternoon, Nola appeared at Josh’s work: she pressed her warm body into his lap as though she had always belonged there and took away Josh's choice to adopt a new friend. It was love at first sniff. By the next day, he was on the phone to Trina: “I’m bringing home a new girl.” The breed didn’t matter. The connection already had a name.
From the moment she arrived, Nola lived with a deep awareness of her people. She was the kind of dog who noticed... the kind who paid attention. Her “super snoot” wasn’t just for sniffing; it was for clearing a path, nudging away obstacles, or finding her way to the one who needed her most. She had no training for it, but when Trina fell in the street after surgery, Nola stayed close, steady and sure, until help came. It was her nature: to protect, to care, to make sure everyone was safe.
At the campgrounds, she kept her post like a sentinel, eyes following each family member no matter where they roamed—morning, dusk, or midnight. When Fynn, her spider monkey brother, got a little too airborne in play, she’d snatch him mid-flight by the tail, pin him down, and “tickle” him into giggles. She tolerated his riding on her like a horse or skiing behind her, tail in hand—her patience a quiet marvel.
Every night, without fail, Nola claimed her place between mom and dad, her big rubbery snoot pressed against Josh’s face, as though she could anchor the whole world by touch. When she was younger, she’d drape her front paws over someone’s shoulders from behind, surveying the room as if to say, “We’re in this together.” Her favorite spot, though, was anyone’s lap—never mind that she was far from lap-dog size.
She had the kind of brown eyes that could stop you mid-sentence—deep, knowing, and unwavering. Her love was steady, a presence more than a gesture. When Carrie and Brooklynn wandered too close to the alley as little girls, Nola would gently grip their coats in her mouth and guide them back, her protective instincts as natural as breathing.
Named for a love story—born the night before Trina and Josh’s wedding, honoring their engagement in New Orleans, LA—Nola’s life was stitched into every chapter of their own. She loved camping, the open road, and car rides so much she would honk the horn if left waiting too long. Every morning, she greeted “her girls” with eager kisses, her joy greeting the day before the sun could.
Nola’s family—Trina and Joshua, Carrie and Brooklynn, Fynn the spider monkey, and her canine siblings Georgia and Hazzard—will carry her memory forward, not as a shadow, but as a steady heartbeat that still echoes in their home.
For Nola was more than a pet. She was a guardian, a companion, and a quiet miracle in fur. And though her paws will never again pad softly through the house, the space she filled will remain forever hers.
