Farewell Skipper
Emma and Skipper
Today there will be no political column, because to be honest, there are things in life more important. After fortunately a very short illness, we were forced to put to sleep our dog Skipper, as shown to the right in 2016, with then-a-very-young Emma behind him, plotting evil. Emma passed away prematurely a year and a half ago at only a decade of life. At his passing Skipper was about seventeen years old.
We think Skipper was a mix of Schipperke and Chihuahua. Both breeds are known for their uppity nature. Skipper had that in spades. For almost his entire life he was active, friendly, and independent. He would only do what he wanted to do, which sometimes was great and sometimes not so great. For example, we have a dog door and a very large fenced back yard. He liked to go outside and bark at the coyotes, sometimes facing off against them with only our six-foot-high cattle fence in-between. The coyotes were unphased, but to Skipper, he had declared that our yard was his territory. Stay out!
Until the last year he also like to bark when visitors arrived, but his only desire in doing so was to get petted. If they stopped, he’d bark again. Pet me!
His outside barking was not always perfect however. If we didn’t close the dog door, he would always go outside at about 4 am every night, plant himself five feet from our bedroom window, and bark relentlessly. I’m the boss! One of us would have to get up and bring him in.
Yes, he wasn’t perfect, but Diane had rescued him in 2012 when he had been for several years shifted from one foster home to another. His original owner had died, and the foster organization had been unable to find him a permanent home. We gave one to him, one he liked quite a lot, and for this the heavens smiled.
I’d go on, but I need to dig a grave in the backyard, next to the graves of Emma, Fitz, and Wolfie.
Emma and Skipper
Today there will be no political column, because to be honest, there are things in life more important. After fortunately a very short illness, we were forced to put to sleep our dog Skipper, as shown to the right in 2016, with then-a-very-young Emma behind him, plotting evil. Emma passed away prematurely a year and a half ago at only a decade of life. At his passing Skipper was about seventeen years old.
We think Skipper was a mix of Schipperke and Chihuahua. Both breeds are known for their uppity nature. Skipper had that in spades. For almost his entire life he was active, friendly, and independent. He would only do what he wanted to do, which sometimes was great and sometimes not so great. For example, we have a dog door and a very large fenced back yard. He liked to go outside and bark at the coyotes, sometimes facing off against them with only our six-foot-high cattle fence in-between. The coyotes were unphased, but to Skipper, he had declared that our yard was his territory. Stay out!
Until the last year he also like to bark when visitors arrived, but his only desire in doing so was to get petted. If they stopped, he’d bark again. Pet me!
His outside barking was not always perfect however. If we didn’t close the dog door, he would always go outside at about 4 am every night, plant himself five feet from our bedroom window, and bark relentlessly. I’m the boss! One of us would have to get up and bring him in.
Yes, he wasn’t perfect, but Diane had rescued him in 2012 when he had been for several years shifted from one foster home to another. His original owner had died, and the foster organization had been unable to find him a permanent home. We gave one to him, one he liked quite a lot, and for this the heavens smiled.
I’d go on, but I need to dig a grave in the backyard, next to the graves of Emma, Fitz, and Wolfie.