This is Mr. Pierre. The General Manager of the place where Scooby gets his hydrotherapy. The BOSS. Just like Springsteen. And just like Springsteen, bringing music to the world. Squeaking with joy like a doppelganger plush toy.
He squeaked for me. He squeaked for Scooby. He squeaked happy. But he did not squeak for everyone. Which made his squeaks for us even more special.
He was blind and deaf. But not for us. He watched my every move. He always knew where the treats were and what pocket I kept them in. He had Superman Vision.
And he never met a pocket he could not pick when it came time to find the treats. Oftentimes he did so with such finesse that I didn’t even know he was doing it. He was the ultimate pickpocket. He was stealth. The best ones are.
No sloppy kisses. They were not his thing. No big tail-wagging outbursts. That was for the puppies. Pierre was dignity. To have him sit on my lap made me feel like royalty. And there, together, we would watch Scooby during his hydrotherapy.
That was what we did. It was our ritual.
Sometimes Pierre would be sleeping when we arrived. But his nose would wake up first. He smelled us. He sensed us. And then the squeaks followed. Sometimes starting even before he awoke.
He was squeaking. He was sleeping. He was squealeeping.
He made the rounds like a security guard. Checking things once, twice, three times. And sometimes I’d surprise him and put some special Pierre treats where he’d just been. He’d find them on his next round. And then he’d look at me with that “Thanks, Larry” look that melted me every time. We both liked doing that.
Playing games with Pierre was the best. Sometimes we’d just make them up as we went. I’d do something. He’d do something. Then we’d both crack up and do it again.
Pierre was 15. He was 1000. He looked like a cloud. That makes sense. Because Pierre was always a step closer to Heaven than anyone else. He just was. He was the best.
Rescued by a Mom who gave him what no one else could. Two years of paradise. And I will miss him dearly.
Our hydrotherapy will never be the same without him there to supervise. To sit on my lap and watch Scooby swim. To squeak. To laugh. To pick my pocket. Doing what he did best.
He Pierred. And he did it beautifully.
He leaves behind hundreds of broken hearts. None more so than that of his Mom, Kristin.
But we know we will see him again someday. And maybe just for fun I’ll wear pants with lots of pockets and be sure to fill every one with Pierre treats. I know he’ll crack up over that.
He was one of our best friends. And we’ll love him and miss him forever.
Sit. Stay. Eat. Live. In Memory Of The Boss.
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#rescue #Pierre #ThePongoFund #TheBoss