In Memoriam: Schuylar the Westie

I regret that I'm not sure I'm spelling his name right. It was promounced Skyler. It may have been spelled Skyler. He was also known as Skye, spell it however you like. Skye was my mother's little canine companion for 17 years, which is a pretty long time for a dog, even a small dog. He started out white and bouncy and then slowed down with age, going less white and more golden. He had gone blind and deaf, but he remained devoted, somehow navigating his way to his dishes and to the door when he needed to go out, and staying by her side. Mom worried that he was just hanging on, waiting for her, and so when he finally absolutely had to be put down not long aqo, she fretted that it must also be her time now.

But the story has a happy new chapter. Amy and Loren, my sister and brother, who both live near Mom, got busy on the internet seeking a new dog. After literally searching the entire country they chose this little 3 year old wheaten Scottie:


She was flown in from Oregon and Mom named her Honey. She was not at all sure the bonding process was going to work, not sure the new dog would like her, not sure she could be enough entertainment for such a young dog. The night Honey arrived, Mom had one of her bad nosebleeds and she called Amy to come over. When Amy arrived she found Honey up on the bed, lying close, being the best comfort she knew how to be. And that was settled.

Honey has a doggie door and knows how to use it to take care of herself. She has toys and she plays with them by herself, except for her ball, which she brings up onto the bed for Mom to throw for her. Over and over, of course. She has no trouble leaping up onto the tall bed, and she sleeps by Mom every night.

Thank you, Schuylar, for all your years of devotion and may you romp now through green fields. And welcome to Honey. Good health to you and much puppy happiness.