From A Dog Named Scooter.

I can remember when I first met those hairless faces. Those four gigantic creatures who took me in and gave me such a fitting name. The boy was tall and lanky at first and would occasionally join me and mom on some of the thousands of kilometres we would eventually stride, side by side. The girl was pretty. It was neat to see her come and go and her hairstyles change as she grew over the years. There was a dog that she would bring over sometimes and as much as everyone hoped we would be friends, I reserved my excitement and loyalty for my birth mom and sister who lived in the country. The girl eventually brought kids around and that made me anxious as I entered the autumn of my life, yet mom and dad were smitten with them, so I tried my best to show countenance.

The back yard they gave me to protect was sublime. Dad kept the grass short in the summer and moved the snow in the winter, so my routine was mostly uninterrupted. I did my best to monitor the intrusion of other hairy or feathered creatures on my domain; mostly keen to ward off those appalling varmints they called cats. One whisper of the word, cat, had my heart racing and adrenalin pumping as I raised my voice in protest. On my last trip to the mailbox with mom, and even though my eyes lacked the focus of my youth, I could make out one of the little buggers and maintained my authority as I let out one low bark. I always looked forward to my adventures with mom through the park; me on all fours, her on just two. It was probably a good thing my feet tracked so much distance because I'm sure some of the food dad gave me wasn't privileged to most of my kind.

Dad was my favourite. When I was young, he would go away in the morning and I wouldn't expect him back until supper time. Eventually, he stopped whatever it was he was doing when he would go away and started to stay home with me every day. It was great because it meant I no longer had to get up early and force my routine before everyone left. I could lie in bed as long as I liked and knew dad would be somewhere close to open the back door when I decided to join the day. I eventually learned to open the screen door on my own, a feat that impressed them. I was also a pretty good sprinter and could circle the yard at light speed (at least it felt like light speed). In my youth I was rambunctious and playful, but when it was time to relax, the safest and most comfortable place in the world was lying down beside dad.

When I entered the winter of my life, I started to slow down. Things became blurry and I could no longer join mom on our long journeys. The boy and girl both moved away and it was mostly me, dad and mom at home. They did everything they could to keep me happy, dad even built me special stairs when I could no longer jump like I used to. When it was my time to go, it was comforting to know I was leaving my family with countless memories and a bond that will never be forgotten. Even though I might not have always shown it, they meant the world to me. Because four hairless faces thought I was someone special, I was blessed with an abundant life and dearly loved.