This is Piper. I also call her Scoop. Which was derived from Scooper, which came from Pooper Scooper, which originated from Pooper because it kind of sounded like Piper.
That was three years ago.
This is Piper now.
If you think she looks normal-sized, you’re very mistaken. She’s freaking huge.
But don’t let her hear you say that. She thinks she’s a lapdog – and I don’t try to change her mind.
She gets very jealous when Daysie (her Chihuahua sister) sits with Momma on the couch, because she’s not allowed on the furniture (even though we sometimes bend the rules when Dad isn’t around).
And even though she likes to pick fights with her furry sibling by rolling her on the ground or coating her tiny chihuahua body in slobber, she’s a good big sister.
Piper loves her Moose, which can be anything from a duck to a ball of rope. If it’s her baby, it’s Moose.
Her favorite night of the week is Calzone night. She waits patiently for the crust, and only whines if we take too long to eat our part before she gets hers.
She’s very photogenic.
She loves peanut butter. And chicken. Not necessarily together. But not necessarily not together.
And apparently plastic toy rings, because she ate three of them.
She finds it absolutely hilarious to run away from Momma. Every morning. For long periods of time.
She thinks someone running is someone who wants to play. Including little children at the park who are running for their lives away from Monster Dog.
She knows that Momma and Dad in the bathroom, with treats, talking in baby voices means it’s bath time. At which time she sprints to her bed.
But she does love water, although she prefers it in creeks or from water hoses, and not so much from a shower head.
She’s endured many back rides from Christian, and about 200 too many people have made “large” jokes to her face. If it makes her sad, she’s too tough to show it.
What really makes her sad, though, is if Momma tells Daysie she’s the prettiest little girl in the whole entire world. Which, she does. And Piper – she just cries. More of a whimper. But a long, drawn-out whimper. And then she gets up (slower now that she’s three years old … or 21?), jogs quickly over, and lays her head on Momma’s lap.
And Momma says, “Little Tiny Piper Girl, you are Momma’s pretty girl, too!”
And then she sighs and nuzzles her nose under Momma’s hand to let her know she wants her ears rubbed. And if Momma stops, she nuzzles some more.
And then, Piper lets a fart that stinks up the entire apartment, and Momma yells. A lot.
Life ain’t a fairy tale, okay?
Best tribute ending ever.
I love her! Crixus needs another play date soon!