He was on his last chance at the shelter when he chose our daughter one Christmas week, bringing a new kind of animal planet to our world. A strange mixture of mismatched parts, he could be sweet beyond words. But he could also be eight pounds of furry dynamite. It was his feistiness that often got him in trouble, and in the end, helped get him killed by the much bigger dog he challenged when he slipped out of our back yard earlier this week.
He was a light in the life of the family that he was fully part of, and most importantly, the center of a lonely, relocated girl’s existence. It was she who rescued him and was rescued by him just as she was drowning in the pain of parting with old friends and the difficulties of making new ones. He was a friend ready-made with complementary knacks for demanding attention and generously bestowing affection.
He was the shadow under human feet, who constantly got stepped on and as constantly forgave us our unimaginable clumsiness. And he found no pillow quite as comfortable as the shoes we’d just slipped off or a softer bed than the forbidden easy chair.
He was the steadfast, reliable companion of a work-at-home mom, who for five and a half years knew that thanks to him and his big beagle half sister, at least someone wouldn’t abandon her for school and work. He put in as many hours in the office as she did. He was her buddy, her associate, her Little Man.
He was his young mistress’s baby; guardian of our realm; keeper of schedules; waker-up of sleepy teen boys; enthusiastic greeter of the weary at the end of each day and after prolonged absences. He was our other man’s best friend’s best friend. He changed our life for the better when he came into it, and his leaving has changed us all again.
He was so much more than just a pet. He was living alchemy, the Copper who turned gold and the gold who turned light and love. Oh, how we loved him. Oh, how we miss him.
From Woodsboro, where we’re still hoping the other owner will come forward. We can be reached at email@example.com.