It was one of those joyful surprises that I still remember

   although many, many years have passed.

One night my Dad came home from work holding a box.

I had no idea what was in it

    no thought at all.

Hushed voices between my mom and dad.

And then gathering around the table while my Dad opened the lid

    Reached deep into the box and pulled out

    a small,

        scrawny looking,

           puppy.

“She was the runt of the litter

     and I just couldn’t say no,” my Dad explained.

My Mom saw work but my brother and I saw a playmate.

And that’s what Pepper became.

Our friend through so many moves.

Our confident.

Our advisor.

I remember laying on the floor beside her dog bed

   talking with her about so many things.

 Pepper, a cocker dachshund mix

     seemed to know from the beginning

     the art of contentment.

She  knew what to do

    and did it. No problem training her.

She played with us

   and then would curl up at our feet.

Happy to be apart.

Once she was attacked by a neighbor’s dog

  and we rushed her to the vet.

She accepted stitches like she accepted everything else.

I’d play the piano for her and she was my audience always wanting to hear more.

We’d ride our bikes

   pulling her in the wagon behind us.

Yes, Pepper, was the perfect dog.

When I was 13 I saw the change. Her walk grew slower. Her eyes sadder.

But she never complained and still stayed close.

I’d play the piano to make her feel better

   Knowing her last day was approaching.

You never are prepared for something like that, are you?

I quietly treasured my memories in my heart.

Every once in a while I see a photo

    or something that remind me of Pepper.

She taught me patience

    and contentment

      and the joy of giving.

If there are dogs in heaven,

    I know that Pepper is there.

Ever sweet. Just wanting to be with you.

Another precious gift of God

    that lingers on in my heart.

Shining moments all around.