A good dog died last week.
My “Pip.”
He was also a good-natured “Mr. Pip,” a “Great Expectations” pup who left us a day before newfallen snow, minus a tomorrow for new paw prints in his backyard fief.
Eight years of chasing balls was all he had, never enough for a beloved golden retriever.
Pip came as one of two, accompanied by a sister named “Two,” who licked his face seconds after a scripted death from a cruel blood cancer, a littermate who gently tussled with him all his life, content to play second fiddle.
This dog duo ate in separate rooms, took turns barking bigtime at doorbells and leashed pooches passing by their front windows. They howled in tandem at fire engines and TV dogs and every day managed a wrestling match before dinner.
Since Pip’s passing, his sister has yet to bark at door knocks, a safety sentry gone forever, and has been sniffing every one of Pip’s house nooks, licking his empty blanket.
Contrary to notable dogs of literature, Pip did not chase rabbits down imaginary holes or chase bighorn sheep or swim with sharks. He was simply one of the best dogs ever, whose acrobatic stunts rivaled the swiftness of the Cooper’s hawk chasing pigeons under our bird feeders.
He gave you a paw when sad, a lick when glad and presented a much too cold pad for comfort on a winter sidewalk.
Surprisingly, Pip had a lexicon of mysterious Morse code, a mixture of growls and grunts I would pretend to understand, a peep for a pet, a squeak for treat. Who knew? Then, he’d give you the eye, a sigh and a 70 pound lap jump for a belly scratch.
I will miss the orange ball Pip proffered but refused to drop, the calming toys he stuffed into his mouth at naptime and his every night staircase chase to secure a dog berth before human arrival ... which sadly stopped a week before he left us.
Pip loved food until he didn’t and chose a Paul Newman beef jerky cube as his final bite in life.
Wishes don’t always come true, like a road trip with my pups to North Dakota to visit a “secret” grove of trees near the Missouri river and my grandparents’ lilac-scented backyard in Mandan.
So my beloved Two-Two, whose official regal name is “Querencia II,” and I will soldier on … and she will continue to do with me what she always did with him.
Teaching us a thing or … “Two.”
And that is ... a great expectation!
Trump’s up!
Alas, while the world awaits the advent of Trump the Terrible Texter … and perhaps placing bets on the Donald’s possible use of emojis to express his feelings … the former president’s public declarations of greatness are still going strong.
- To wit: The Trumpster recently declared himself “the winner” of his own golf club’s senior championship event.
- Scorecard shocker: Though his nibs did not play the first round of the Trump International Golf club event in West Palm Beach, the local press reported the former president asserted that his golf prowess and once again proved his strength and stamina.
The bald eagle has landed!
It might be ho-hum time for north suburban Cook County and south suburban Lake County bird-watchers but not where eagles dare.
- To wit: Latest aviary alert: About 22 eagles have been spotted in these parts. “They are taking advantage of warmer weather and lack of ice cover to fish longer,” said Sneed’s favorite Unlimited Bird man Tim Joyce. And, yum: 25 rough-legged hawks and 15 harriers with bibs have also been spotted sticking around later than usual.
Royal rant…
Here we go again. A little slimy from the blimey!
The Brit tabloid press says Prince Andrew, now stripped of his military roles and royal patronages after being linked and inked to the late American sexual predator Jeffrey Epstein, is telling folks a miracle is in store.
- Tittletattle translation: Something is about to break that will change the public perception of him? Stay tuned … or not.
Sneedlings…
Top tip: Sneed hears a massive campaign to discredit one of Chicago’s top mayoral male candidates is this/close to being unleashed, and it ain’t going to be pretty. Guess who?
Saturday birthdays: singer J. Cole, 38, actor Elijah Wood, 42, and actor Alan Alda, 87. Sunday birthdays: actress Heather Graham, 53, talk show host Oprah Winfrey, 69, and actor Tom Selleck, 78.
