I call her Queen BossyPants.
She sits on your head and barks at brooms. She likes to climb into the dishwasher to lick the dishes. She loathes squirrels and her bark will make your ears bleed. She came to this earth at the exact moment Banjo left it.
I used to think Pip was Banjo reincarnated. Now I know she is definitely her own dog. And that’s a good thing.
Maybe Banjo saw us hurting and sent Pip down here to heal our hearts. Who knows. Somehow a little puppy from Delaware found her way to Mississippi.
Pip’s mom Twinkie is one of a kind, too. She’s feisty, ornery and an alpha dog extreme. Jim, the breeder we got Pip from, figured out that Pip was a chip off the old block very early on and needed to live with three boys. Pip was the outgoing one of the litter. Energetic. Even a little bit bratty. Jim’s wife even called us to make sure we knew what we were getting into. Apparently Twinkie has quite a reputation at the Blue Rock kennels. (In her defense, one of her pups, Pip’s brother The Dude, will be competing at Westminster and was in the dog show after the Macy Parade.)
We went ahead and took a risk with Pip and she rewarded us by chewing up the blinds, eating my glasses and destroying her fair share of toys. She also burrowed into our hearts. A good dog will do that.
Banjo was a big lug. Pip is a force of nature. She is an alpha dog like her mother (and Banjo). She attacks my oldest son’s jeans. She steals my middle son’s socks. And from the moment she saw my youngest boy, she decided HE was her puppy. She is part of our family and we love her very much.
Pip has reminded me the lesson that dogs teach us: That there is life after a great loss. You can keep living. And if you do, you can find love again.
God bless our little brown dog. Because He blessed us when she came into our lives.