Snoopy

Meet Snoopy. He's Poppy's shadow, his buddy, his partner in crime. He was instrumental in Poppy's rapid recovery from two knee replacement surgeries. He is, in Poppy's words, a Serious Babe Magnet. He's also son to my much missed CharlieDog. He was in her first and only litter. So, let's see, she came to us in Dec '99, just about a week later had pups, so he's 14. And we lost Charlie a year and a half ago, around the same age. 

Snoopy's been slowing down a lot the last few months, but we figured it was because of Poppy's health issues that have slowed him down. We're starting to realize that's not so much the issue. Snoopy is Poppy's last dog, his last buddy, and he's probably going to be saying goodbye to him soon. Of course, to me, this is better than the other option, but still. I'm not over Charlie's death, I can't stand that Poppy is facing it now.

Okay, this is getting maudlin and I don't want to go there. So let's pick up the pace with a Charlie and Snoopy story. Every summer, Snoopy would come stay at Camp Charlie for a couple of weeks while my folks went up to Spokane for a visit. Being a city dog and unused to the sights and sounds of the country, his first few visits were interesting. I'd take him and Charlie down the road to the open fields for a little wabbit hunting. Charlie was an expert rabbit hunter. We never came home without a kill; even in her later years when she was slowing down, she could still give 'em a good chase. But Snoopy? Oh hell no. The first time I took them off the leash and he followed her to her favorite warren, he didn't have a clue. He's just standing there with that goofy look on his puppy face when she flushed two out and they ran right into him, almost knocked him over. He jumped and yelped and came hauling ass back to me with his tail tucked. Charlie looked positively mortified. She didn't even give chase, just stood there looking at her son cowering between my legs. The rest of that week, she pretty much ignored him. But he was watching, every walk we took, he was taking notes. By the end of the second week, they were taking turns flushing and chasing. 

His last visit to Camp Charlie was the summer before she passed, and she'd slowed way down. She mostly flushed and he chased, but he never caught anything that summer. At the end of the two weeks, I was walking Snoopy out to the momvan and Charlie walked with us. I opened the sliding door and settled him in, he turned around three times and laid down behind the passenger seat nose pointing to the door. Charlie pushed past me, and rested her chin on the floor nose-to-nose with her son. I couldn't say anything, just stood there and watched them say goodbye. She huffed a little woof, licked his nose and turned to go back in the gate. Snoopy didn't move or bark the whole hour trip home, and Poppy said he moped for a couple of weeks. That was in July, Charlie was gone the following January.