A Tribute to Skippie: Exuberant till the end

Can one love a pet so much that your heart wants to break when they die? Oh yes, you can and I am going through that now. Darling little Skippie was diagnosed in December with Aggressive Haemangiosarcoma, a form of skin cancer; within three months she had become a shadow of her former self, but her inner core never changed. On Monday, 7 March 2016 we said goodbye!

When she was still healthy.

She was exuberant - a 'noisy' little being. When she drank water she did so with relish; she gulped her food down noisily; she snored so loudly that it often left us giggling as no one could sleep through it, and most precious of all, when I fetched Garry from the airport she would howl at the top of her voice when she spotted him, still some distance away. Life was one big joy to her. Her tail never stopped wagging, her eyes stayed relatively clear. She never lost her lust for life, although she became quieter the last while. She was a fine example of someone who embraced life and with her noisy character I branded her a 'screamer'.

What a treat!

Never will I forget how excited she became when her leopard skin basket was put in the car and she ran to get in too, although the last years it was more of a hobble on her arthritic foot. Both she and Piccolo loved to visit friends, the beach, shops or anywhere we wanted to go.  All the more was her exuberance when I would tell her who we were going to see. For instance when we visited the Olssons , I would explain to her and stretch out the words Jordi, Damita, Jimmy and Missy and her 'screams' pierced through the car and probably the neighbourhood, especially when we took the last corner to their house. So great was her excitement when we arrived that she would scramble out of the car and bark for the front door to be opened; a doorbell therefore totally unnecessary.  I remember the times while driving, that she would scratch me on the shoulder. I could never work out whether she wanted a hug (which she would get) or if it was instigation on Piccolo’s part of insisting to know where we were going (which I would then explain in great detail). Regardless of which of the two it was, it  always seemed to satisfy her, but we all understood that she was the officially, designated 'communicator'.

Skippie loved to canoe. She is wearing her Doggy Life Saver Jacket. 

I will miss my doggy of fifteen years, who was such a big part of my life; Garry will miss her, as whom would he scratch now? She loved her daddy for those chest, tummy and head scratches and both of them could never seem to get enough.

Daddy is taking a break from scratching Skippie, but she is waiting...

I shudder to think how Piccolo will cope in future. Skippie became Piccolo's ears when the latter’s hearing went, only for Skippie to lose hers lately. Yet, I communicated with them, and they with each other, and everyone understood.  She could bully old, gentle and frail Piccolo, as being 'first’ was always so important to the little plump one, but they were friends and had been together for all of those fifteen years.

Skippie in her leopard skin basket.

Skippie waiting for her mommy. To Garry's frustration she wouldn't go anywhere without me.

I will miss you, my little lump. You have taken a bigger chunk out of my heart than you could ever know. You were my little darling friend, whom I could hug and kiss until you lifted your lip to show me 'enough is enough'. We had been through miles of walking, rowing on the river in the canoe, just sitting on the beach, eating lovely treats together and playing with your squeaky chicken when you were still young enough to enjoy silly games. You were well travelled and should have qualified as a 'frequent flyer', you always received compliments about good behaviour in restaurants, and you went on holidays and stayed in B + Bs. You had the best and you deserved the best.

Skippie playing with Piccolo tug of war over the squeaky duck.

She loved her 'walks'. Skippie in her backpack when the arthritis in her legs prevented her from walking.

One of our favourite pastimes. Walking on the beach and then enjoying the view.

It has been a lifetime and I wish you a well deserved rest; I will never forget your warm little body as you cuddled up to me when your time came, yet you were so calm and I have absolute peace about that.

I believe you are with Jesus in Doggy Heaven. A place where there is no illness, disease, anxiety or fear. I imagine you in a beautiful, lush garden with ample shade, green grass, a mountain even more beautiful than Table Mountain and soft white sand; a soft (leopard skin) bed, abundant food (chicken and rice) and biltong snacks. I imagine you running around and playing without arthritis, no cancer spots erupting in a bloody mess and I imagine St Francis of Assisi as your loving minder.

Rest in Peace my precious one!

Skippie 7.3.16 R.I.P

‘Free kisses’