Zipper
I know, I know. This is a food blog. You don't come here to read about dogs. The thing is, this post isn't about just any old dog. This is about a foodie dog and one of the best dogs who has ever graced this planet with his presence - and my oh my, did he have a presence!
Rest in peace, baby dog. Those 16 & 1/2 years between those 2 dates were a great "dash" of a life. Thanks for living up to your name and making that dash between your date of birth and the day you had to go so "zippy" and wonderful. You didn't just dash through it - you always “Zipped” right through! 16 & 1/2 years is an incredibly great, long run, especially for a miniature Yorkshire Terrier. You were simply the best there ever was, and that doesn't even begin to capture who you were to everyone. You made every day around you a pleasure for everyone you ever met, and I am incredibly grateful for your existence in my world for just over half my lifetime. We have all been incredibly lucky to have you in our lives, and I'm very thankful my parents took such good care of you. The fact that you were super sweet in giving kisses from the moment I met you until your last waking moment speaks volumes about who you were.
Rest in peace, baby dog. Those 16 & 1/2 years between those 2 dates were a great "dash" of a life. Thanks for living up to your name and making that dash between your date of birth and the day you had to go so "zippy" and wonderful. You didn't just dash through it - you always “Zipped” right through! 16 & 1/2 years is an incredibly great, long run, especially for a miniature Yorkshire Terrier. You were simply the best there ever was, and that doesn't even begin to capture who you were to everyone. You made every day around you a pleasure for everyone you ever met, and I am incredibly grateful for your existence in my world for just over half my lifetime. We have all been incredibly lucky to have you in our lives, and I'm very thankful my parents took such good care of you. The fact that you were super sweet in giving kisses from the moment I met you until your last waking moment speaks volumes about who you were.
You were a fighter through and through, my little mighty
dog, and so much more.
A best little buddy.
An always-available petting recipient.
A consistently cheerful, playful, and loyal companion.
A believer in living life to the fullest.
A fierce and fearless six-pound home defender.
An always-ready, champion fetcher.
A unabashed smiler, miraculously managed even without
lips.
An intuitive therapist.
A bedside nurse.
A masterfully active and animated dreamer.
An overflowing container of so much personality.
A genetic hybrid comprised of an unexplained concoction
between pure cane sugar and dog DNA that managed to melt even the coldest of
hearts.
A seemingly endless, though diminishing with age, ball of
energy.
A bath disloyalist.
A post-bath shampoo-smell remover.
A chewer of hair dryer air.
An electric hair trimmer antagonist.
A shameless ham for attention.
A converter of dog-haters.
A converter of the dog-fearing.
A converter of an "I don't want an indoor dog"
father.
An ever-ready travel companion.
A highly upset announcer when you saw your “mom” bleed.
A dancer in exchange for treats or attention.
A ball-substitute that happily ran between people for
attention when they lost the fetching ball.
A highly successful beggar of food morsels.
A stealthy, compulsive and shameless kisser.
A flawless finder of all the good spots to mark during
walks.
A sniffer of only the good leaves.
A lantana leaf junkie.
An avid fan of the great outdoors.
A one-litter father.
A sneaky chocolate thief and a subsequent
hydrogen-peroxide-induced-chocolate-removal survivor.
A survivor of a Great Dane attack.
A survivor of rat poisoning.
A fearless yard defender from giant, Texas-size opossums and
other non-fluffy tailed creatures.
A vet's office protester.
A hunger protester who only accepted hand-fed morsels from
favorite, worthiness-self-assessed-people when overly excited or upset.
A fierce women-of-the-house defender.
A perverted, non-believer in bathroom privacy and a believer
in a highly probable statistics of getting attention from a captive
throne-sitter.
A connoisseur of sunspots.
A beggar of corncobs.
A mad-dash out of kennel morning-potty runner.
A post-morning potty-run torturer of teenage daughters and
sleepover victims who refused to get out of bed.
A vehicle engine noise-recognizing greeter.
An insistent and incredibly dashing sweater model.
A sniffer of anything butt-like.
An eager-to-please trick show-off.
An equal opportunity game player with cats and dogs alike.
A little dude with a complete inability to hide naughty
ideas with body language.
A greeter and fetch player, even over the phone.
A stunningly comprehensive canine student of the English
language.
An unapologetic food snob who only ate Cheerios soaked with
milk upon gaining the knowledge that they could be soaked in milk.
A cheerful part of returning home each and every day.
A sweet welcomed-guest-greeter and an intimidating
unwelcomed-guest-greeter with the remarkable ability to always know the
difference between the two with absolute, 100% accuracy.
A stunner of veterinarians with your age, personality, and
vigor for life.
The gift that truly kept on giving.
An unrepentant thief of hearts.
A beautiful dog, inside and out.
Thanks for making everyone love you SO much, little dude. You are sorely missed, and will always be remembered for everything you were to all of us. Clearly, it was a LOT.