Lightening Strikes

"There he goes." "SKIPPYYYYY!"

He got away again. Our little black and tan dog just leapt over the fence and into the alley and then onto his own adventures. The sun was hot on my skin as I had also tried to leap across the backyard. I already knew it was in vain and heaved in a sigh at the little dog, long gone.

Skippy was a puppy from a neighbour's home. He was quite a cute little fellow as are all puppies; he was a Heinz 52 mix and was on the smaller side of size as far as dogs go, short haired and fast. My sister brought Skippy home because she wanted him and seemingly loved him at first sight. We couldn't get her to let him go as she hugged him closely to her and started to cry when my mom pried him from her gently. My mom wasn't really an animal lover and didn't want to keep him. She had gotten rid of our pets when my dad was really sick and didn't bat an eye. As a child coming home to them all sitting in boxes waiting to be picked up, I was horrified, so I didn't think we'd be able to have a puppy and also didn't know if it would be in the puppy's best interests either.

We had just moved into another house. My dad had passed away from cancer the previous year, and my mom bought a house with his insurance policy money. I being the oldest at 15 tried to pick up the slack as far as household chores and watching my younger siblings went. I was scared too. I didn't know what to expect myself, but for my brothers and sister, I pretended I knew what I was doing. In reality we all just didn't know what would happen anymore.

My sister was crying as my mom held the little puppy. I felt the tears coming as I felt my sister's pain, but I also knew if my mom made up her mind, there was no point in arguing for the puppy. My mom looked dejected but then she said, "You can keep him, but you have to take good care of him. You're to walk him, feed him, clean him and clean up after him." My sister's eyes lit up as she rushed to grab the little puppy and scooped him into her loving arms.

I know my mom allowed her to have Skippy because she still felt the sadness of our father's passing and was trying to ease my sister's grief. My sister was only 7 when my dad passed, and she was the apple of his eye being the youngest. We were all feeling the excitement of having another little addition to the family. Of course we all wanted to play with Skippy, feed Skippy and walk Skippy, but surprisingly we all drew straws to clean up after him.

Skippy was actually named Skipper, but it evolved to Skippy then Skip at times. He grew into our family, and my sister was his best caretaker. She doted on him as though he were an actual baby, but I guess that's good medicine for a broken heart.

His biggest flaw was that he'd make daring escapes anytime he had a chance. He was like a little lightning rod once he knew he was off the leash if you didn't act quick enough to get him in the door. He'd take off over the back fence which by the way was over 6 feet; there was a small opening that he was able to get through, and that's where he made his daring escapes. He jumped through that like lightning, and I never once saw him get hurt.

We had gotten better as time went on at blocking Skippy's escapes, but they still did happen every so often if we let our guard down. After a couple of years I remember one of our neighbours from down the block knocking at our back door with a little puppy that looked like Skippy. We let her in as our moms were friends. Well to all of our surprise Skippy was a dad. We were all invited down to their house to see all the little "Skippys." Even though we didn't bring any of the puppies home, we all came home with a warm feeling. I can still feel it if I think about that time.

Skippy has long gone to heaven, but that little dog came into our lives at a time when we had the pain of losing our dad and the uncertainty that comes with that. When I look back he helped to keep us focussed on something more positive - love. We built back our feelings of security by taking care of and loving something smaller than we were. I guess our pets are really our angels in disguise.