It was October after my 10th birthday...we had just moved to Idaho, my parents were buying their first house, my dad was a real doctor with a real paycheck, and for my birthday they said we could get a dog when we moved into the new house.
We pulled into the gravel drive, my sisters and I were giddy with excitement. I think at that point the excitement was even rubbing off on my dad. As soon as he put the car in park we were out the door of that old minivan as fast as our little legs could carry us. I was 10, Kelsey was 7, Steph was 4, and Rachel was 1. So I guess mom had to get Rachel out of the carseat and she might not have been as excited as the other three of us, but if she knew what was happening, she would have been too.
The sign read Atherton Kennel. The town we had just moved to was a whopping 6,000 people and had a whole one stoplight to the entire town. We didn't even have a McDonalds until I was almost out of high school. So you can imagine what the dog pound looked like, but I didn't realize it at the time. It was a man and his wife who ran it. When we went in, we were greeted I'm sure, but we sure didn't stop to be polite. We were on a mission for puppies.
There were two to choose from. Not because they only had two puppies, but because in a house with all females, my dad said absolutely not another girl, we needed a male.
There they were, a black and white one, and a red one with black and white markings and floppy ears. The black and white one was reallllly scruffy, skinny, and looked like he had been through a lot in his few short weeks of life. The red one was round and chubby, soft as he could be, and completely cuddly.
You can probably imagine which one I choose. I distinctly remember my mother telling me that the black and white one might need our love and care, and that we could nurse it back to health and that it was probably going to be a great dog.
I love my mom, and in the last 16 years she has been my worst enemy but for the most part my best friend. She is a servant as I have never seen in another person n this earth. She loves, cares, and serves our family and others without tiring. I pray that I can be the kind of mother to Kate that she is to me.
In this case, I was definitely not like my mother. She would have probably picked the black and white one simply because it needed us. I chose the red, chubby, soft, cuddly one. Feeling a little guilty...but not for long!
Dad said to put him on the ground and make sure he could walk ok, and that he didn't seem like he had any major issues.
Put him down?! That was a hard feat.
We had a new puppy! My dad paid the man $35 for our sweet little guy and we ran to the car. I think it was a good thing we had seatbelts on because I swear we would have floated to the sky.
The first discussion was what we were going to call him. I thought he should be called Tippy because he had black tips on his ears, and white tips on his paws. Kelsey liked Millie, and Steph said we should name him Cappie after Cappie in the movie. It was a Charlie Sheen (old school) movie about high school kids. Cappie was short for Captain because he was Captain of the football team, and all the girls loved him. The same was true for our dog--all the girls loved him. So Cappie it was. Plus, mom pointed out that he had "caps" of black on his ears and white on his paws. It was perfect.
He turned out to be a wonderful dog. Smart, trainable, not too big not too small, well-behaved, loving, and very much a shepherd for our family.
We took him backpacking in the mountains, fed him probably hundreds of pounds of table scraps, he's been lost two times, he was run over once, and lived in two states on opposite ends of the US. He never bit anyone, his fur soaked up a lot of tears when teenage girls had rough days. There was even talk of him being the ring bearer in my wedding! He befriended several cats, and made enemies of a lot of squirrels, moles, and oppossums. In his later days, he followed my mom literally everywhere even when his hips weren't very obliging. He was a great dog.
He died last Friday. It hurts to even type those words. I'm not, nor is anyone in my family, the type that considers animals to be on the same level as people, but he sure was close.
