<%@LANGUAGE="JAVASCRIPT" CODEPAGE="1252"%> Whisky Pants
     
     
     

Look, I'm not doing this for you, but for my own dark and twisted reasons. Oh, and because everyone else is doing it.

 
 

July 02, 2005

sentimental

I really miss having a dog. A good dog. Not like my sister's dog, who happens to be the Bart Simpson of the dog world. She doesn't much like that hound either, but Nephew of Whiskypants is extremely fond of the neurotic hairy beast.

Pepper was a keeshond - a medium-sized Norwegian barge dog. They're known to be good with children. We found her at the local pound when she was about 10 months old, and the shelter staff thought she might have been mistreated. For the rest of her life, Pepper could not stand the sight of a rolled-up newspaper. She slept on her back with her legs all akimbo and her passion was licking feet. She had the world's softest ears.



This photo was taken in 1975 on Thanksgiving Day. I'm the one hugging Pepper, while my sister is the darling toddler in the lumberjackesque attire.

My parents had to put Pepper to sleep back in 1988 as her health was very poor and she was in misery. I was touring the University of Colorado-Boulder and didn't find out till we were on our way home. I always said I couldn't go there due to the insufferable drive, but maybe I blame the school for not being able to bid farewell to my pup.

Now I want a purse dog. (The smaller the dog, the smaller the poop.) I LOVE purses.

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