Rest in Peace, Skippy

It may be hard for some of you to believe but I actually shed a few tears when I heard from Natalie that Skippy had died. We're not sure how old Skip was when he came to live with us but he was probably at least 15 when he died. Not bad for a dog. Ever since my dog Meatball died when I was a teen, I've tried to keep some emotional distance between any of our pets and myself. But I'm not always successful. Skip is a good example.

He came to us from the Seal Beach Animal Shelter with a healing broken shoulder (hence the name Skippy) and a name that was something like Cheyenne. The thing I remember most about the process was how careful the shelter was about letting us have Skippy. We had to explain what our home and yard was like and state that we were going to treat him like one of the family. They even explained that they might do an onsite visit in a few days to verify that we really were taking good care of him.

Of course a trip to Petsmart was necessary to get all the necessary equipment such a leash, feeding and watering bowls as well as some dry dog food. But I went along with it thinking that would be the extent of my involvement. After all, he was Natalie's dog, a present for her 16th birthday. We all know how that goes. A mission, marriage and living in a "no pets" apartment, can certainly change the plans. I won't claim to have been the major caregiver for Skippy at any time but I did my share of picking up his poop on some of our neighborhood walks. It seemed like it was his job to make sure we didn't walk too far or too fast.

When we bought the "ancestral family home" in Long Beach, it came with a dog and when we left the house in the care of Natalie and Richard, Skip went with the deal. He was finally back with his own human.

Please feel free to add your own comments about Skippy.