Pepper Lee

My dad was pretty much against us getting a dog. But after the up and down of preparing to move and then not moving, he changed his mind.

The day after New Year's 1993 we went to the mall and happened into the pet store. We saw the cute little black puppy and dad asked if we wanted to get it out and play with it. We did. And we left with him.

He was supposed to be a Llasa Apsa. Now I'm not convinced he was, but it doesn't really matter. He was a little big and long for a llasa. But he fit right in with our family. I remember all of us tripping on him numerous times and saying he was lucky that he was bigger otherwise he'd be smushed with all of us tall people around.

I loved this dog. He was my friend. You know, the kind that you can talk to and tell how upset and frustrated and mad you are at your other friends and doesn't care. The kind that is just there. That dog knew all of my secrets.

We all loved him. I remember Ben and Dad and Pep running around our downstairs chasing each other. We used to throw his toys,especially his fish, down the hallway and laugh as he would slide into the wall because he couldn't get grip on the hardwood floors to stop. We liked for him to play "dead" where one of us held up his paws and the other acted like we were shooting him. It sounds awful written out, but it really was hilarious.

Pepper loved to eat. Not-so-much his food, but anything he could get from the table. Especially popcorn, but he wasn't picky. Except for black olives. He did not like those. When I moved out for college, one of the strangest things was not having him there begging for food.

He was super friendly. Unless you held him by the collar. And then, watch out. If anyone unfamiliar got to close he would bite. And he did. But only because he was a little protective of his momma and sister. Otherwise, he loved everyone. And everyone loved him, except those he bit (which was only a handful).

This last year, he has given into old age. He had congestive heart failure and kidney failure and pretty much just became miserable. On May 22 my Dad, who grew to love that dog as much if not more than the rest of us, took the task of taking Pep to be put to sleep. The same vet who had seen him as a puppy 15 years ago was the one who helped him rest comfortably.

It was the right thing to do. We didn't want him to suffer. But it's still hard. He was a part of our lives and our family for 15 years. And we miss Sir Pepper of Longwood.

*the pic at the top was the last one taken of me and pep on a recent visit home