Skipper
The story of a boy and his first dog
I was going to write about a special furry friend named Max for the Thank You Notes May-June challenge to write about pet love, but as I thought about it, I realized I’d already written something about him:
I thought I might expand on that poem, but after re-reading it, I found it captured the essence of Max so perfectly that further words would be superfluous.
So, instead, I’ll tell you about my first dog. I’ll call him “Skipper,” though that wasn’t his real name. I sometimes use his real name as an answer to a security question or as part of a password, so I can’t make it public.
I don’t remember a time before Skipper. I was around three when he came into my life. We lived in a semi-rural area just outside a small lumber town on the eastern slope of the Sierra Nevada Mountains in northeastern California.
Skipper and I would roam the hills playing all kinds of imaginary games. We went everywhere together. He might run off to chase a squirrel, but he’d never go far and always came back. He saw protecting…
