Pipsqueak

Four pounds of fur, teeth and joy.

Right now, I’m watching an eight-week-old, four-pound puppy trying to drag a bigger-than-her shoe across the kitchen floor. It really is comical — but there’s not much about Pip that isn’t funny.  She’s tiny, very dark and has white teeth like a vampire bat. She likes to attack my leg and has a God-given ability to turn just about anything into a toy. She has survived one incident with a closing door without a scratch. The good Lord knows we couldn’t handle any more dog drama after what we went through with Banjo.

Ah, Banjo.  I’ve missed the big lug every day since he died.

Pip won’t replace him.  And honestly, I’d never put that kind of pressure on her. But what she has done is remind me of a very important lesson:

Yes, I lost Banjo. But I found Pip.  She is my little brown and black reminder that the living have to keep on living.