Every beloved pet owner touts that they have the BEST DOG. But I want you to know that you were the BEST DOG.
For sixteen years, you wiggled your way into our hearts and home like no other unwanted San Antonio scruff. You were a regular on the westside and ran with a devoted canine pack. You foraged from every trash can, sipped from every water puddle, and evaded traffic with ease. Eventually you ended up on the St. Mary’s campus and in the back of an animal control truck. But as fate would have it, a kind employee convinced the officer to let you go. A few phone calls later and you were at our house….temporarily… until a more permanent home could be found. Little did we know at the time, the role you would serve or the icon you would become.
If only we could recount all the tales – good, bad, and in between. You officially earned the title of “first” SNIPSA dog and graced the cover of every SNIPSA newsletter and publication. Your giant canvasses plaster the SNIPSA office and serve as a warm welcome to our patrons. Somehow, you tolerated us cross-dressing you in women’s clothes, Christmas lights, and even a headdress when Indian fashion was a point of contention. I am not sure if it was you that gave up or us that gave in. Eventually we settled. And you brought a whole new element to raising children. We always knew where to find you when the house grew quiet….fast asleep under a child’s bassinet or tucked away next to a car seat. There was no need for a leash as your separation anxiety kept you close by. And why you snubbed your nose at human food until your golden years kept us perplexed. The road trips, the thousands of miles, and adventures are too numerous to recount. You always insisted in joining us on the ski boat though you had real aversion to water and never learned how to swim. You allowed us to drag you up the highest of Colorado mountains refusing to drink water even after climbing 12,000 feet. I would be remiss not to acknowledge the thousands of SNIPSA foster dogs you mentored through the years. It didn’t matter if we brought home a snippy Chihuahua or a bull headed Chow, you tolerated them with grace and always let them know who was boss. You donated blood to save canine lives and spent more days in the back of Ben’s car to manage your neurosis. When left alone you scaled fences like an antelope and shredded blinds with fierce intention. You managed us and we attempted to manage you.
But now those days have come to a close. I am glad we didn’t know yesterday morning would be our last goodbye but am grateful the decision of when that might be is out of our hands. God needed you upstairs. I think He may be starting his own rescue group. We LOVE you Scoots and celebrate one of the greatest dogs that ever lived!
The Espy Family