Sad times around here today. Our nine-year-old rescued mutt passed, the victim of a non-functioning liver..
We adopted Pepper when he was eight-weeks old, saved from a Georgia shelter by Home for Good Dog Rescue. The time he spent with us was all too short. In those 9+ years he made our home a more loving and joyful place to be.
It’s not possible to overstate the impact of this little guy on our family. Who’s going to keep the mailman from storming the front door? Who’s going to sniff our way back to the car after I’ve veered off a hiking trail? Who’s going to patrol the backyard bringing order to the chaos of squirrels, chipmunks, rabbits and who knows what else. I’ve now got no one to play tug of war with, not to mention the games Pepper conceived himself like “sucker” and “two stick.”
I’ll always remember how he looked after me when I had my knees operated on. When I was bedridden, he would lie on the bottom corner of the bed keeping an eye on me. When I started to walk again, he was always at my side. When I would go upstairs he’d walk with me at the same agonizingly slow pace, one step at a time.
Pepper was a big fan of ‘bark in the park’ night at the local minor league ballpark. So much the better when it was dollar hot dog night as well. When I would watch a ballgame on TV, he was always next to me on the couch.
It is Pepper’s picture peering out over the fence that graces the home page of this blog and that will continue to do so. I’m running out of words to describe what his loss means, so I’ll just put up some more images of this handsome, smart, faithful guy.