I got to bring Poppy home in April. I wasn't sure how she would react to being taken from her home. It was a bit of a drive, and I was worried she might whine or cry. She did nothing of the sort. She looked around was alert and seemed prepared for a new adventure.
I would describe Poppy as Fearless. She was a bright, curious spirit, always ready for a bit of fun on her terms. She always seemed surprised that anyone would try to tell her what she couldn't do.
She was Poppy, Poppitt, Squeaky-girl, and Monkey. She loved to play in the water. Once we had a pool, she became an able swimmer.
She was an avid camper and beachcomber
Poppy was in charge. When I first brought her home, she chased, the cat and soon had Bear (our mix Chow) wrapped around her little paw. When we added Wally to the pack (blond dog in the above pictures), she quickly dominated him. Often, I caught her stealing Wally's food from him.
She wasn't no lap dog. However, many a day, after I got home from work, she would decide it was time for her to be worshiped and would jump up on the couch to claw at my hand to let me know. As I said, she was in charge. Some scratching and petting, a little massage, and then, when she was satisfied, she would jump right down. Even when she couldn't jump on the couch anymore, she would still come over to me for her attention moment. Her competition name was: "I'm the One," and it was a great match for her personality.
She was quite the escape artist. More than once, she had our hearts in our throats as we went tearing around the neighborhood trying to find where she was off to, often with Wally in tow.
I already miss her so much, it feels like my heart is breaking just writing this. But it must be done, she deserves nothing less.
In her finals days, her end came quite sudden. Just a couple of months ago she was trotting along with a pop in her step, able to knock out a mile or so, no problem. Then she got quite ill in February. She never completely recovered. The pop came back a couple of times, a shadow of its former vigor. I kept hoping she would mend enough to enjoy another year or so. Even a few days ago, she went into one of her classic moves of rolling around on the rug for a self back massage, while channeling, "hey look at me!" But then, there was also a moment when she was obviously not feeling well. She found me sitting at my bed, leaned into my legs and just stood there. I understood. I petted, massaged, and scratched her head. I started to cry. It occurred to me she was saying goodbye.
Thank you Poppy for the 16 years of your life that you shared with me. It was truly an honor. I am a richer person for having known you.
