Meet Lola, Dewey Beach Police’s unofficial comfort dog

The Dewey Beach Police Department door opened and out galloped Lola, a chunky but sturdy, low-riding, happy-go-lucky bullypit – a bulldog-pitbull mix.

“We call her the unofficial comfort dog of the department,” said dispatcher Melissa Squier, who adopted Lola last August from Brandywine Valley SPCA in Georgetown.

The 3-year-old pup has become a beloved presence at the department, coming with Squier to work almost every day.

“On the rare day I show up without her, there’s no ‘Good morning.’ Instead it’s, ‘Where’s Lola?’” Squier laughed.

Every morning, Lola waits patiently for “Pops” – Don Robinson, the DBPD’s court liaison – to get to the department so she can share his Chick-fil-A biscuit with him. She gets the top half, and he gets the bottom half.

Every time she eats, it’s a big production – pouncing forward, jumping back, shaking her head like a horse and tossing some bits of food over her shoulder. Whoever’s behind her to the left is always in the line of fire. She eats the pieces she tossed around first before settling down to finish the rest of the food.

The department has fallen in love with Lola and all her goofy quirks.

“She’s such an angel, [and] she’s a blessing to the office,” Robinson said. “She comforts everybody here and keeps everybody calm.”

But life hasn’t always been good for Lola.

She was found last June as a stray in Seaford, extremely emaciated with her eyes swollen shut. She was taken to the shelter, where she underwent immediate surgery for severe eye injuries. 

While she healed, she was kept isolated. Based on her behavior, the SPCA staff believed she’d likely spent most of her life in a kennel, possibly used for breeding, without normal interactions or socialization.

She didn’t know how to “dog,” explained SPCA trainer Gracie Thomas.

Squier went to the shelter on a whim with her boyfriend not long after making the heartbreaking decision to put down her previous dog, Momo, who had a rapidly growing brain tumor, quickly diminishing his quality of life. He was just turning 5.

“I truly didn’t think I would be ready for another dog so soon, but grief has a way of showing you what you need, even when you don’t realize it yet,” Squier said.

Lola, who was named Lottie at the time, was sitting quietly on a cot in the last kennel on the left in the shelter hallway.

“She looked up at me through the glass with the saddest eyes,” Squier said. “I couldn’t explain it, but I felt an instant connection.”

Squier has two other dogs at home, so she needed to know how Lottie acted around other dogs. 

During a socialization test with another friendly dog, Lottie cowered behind the trainer and showed some fear-based aggression. Squier’s heart sank.

The next day, the shelter encouraged Squier to participate in its Skip the Shelter Day program, an opportunity to see Lottie outside of the shelter environment, which can be extremely distressing for dogs. The shelter provided Squier with a go-bag of food, treats, water and a list of dog-friendly places to take her, and she and Lottie were on their way to have a great day.

Lottie seemed to thrive outside the shelter and quickly warmed up to Squier’s other dogs, and Squier called the SPCA the next day to let them know she’d be adopting her. She renamed her Lola to give her a fresh start. 

That morning, she brought Lola in to work with her. She was on her best behavior all day, lying quietly in her bed while Squier and her colleagues worked.

“From the moment she walked in, the officers loved her, and she couldn’t get enough of their attention,” Squier said. “When my chief and lieutenant met her the following day, they both said the same thing: ‘She should come every day.’”