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A hui hou, Hoppsy

She was the world's most brilliant, brave, mischievous, and beautiful border collie in the history of the universe. Hopps made us smile every day of her life.

She came to us from friends who adopted her from the Denver Dumb Friends League. She had been abused as a pup and was shy then, afraid of anything with a long handle, scared of belts and loud noises. Our friends loved her, but with a fledgling business and a baby on the way, they had little time for. We fell for her instantly that weekend they came to visit, and when they asked if we'd be willing to take her, we said, in unison and without hesitation, "Sure!"


Hopps transformed from city pooch to country girl and quickly became the happiest dog in the world.

Now, free from old age and disease, she can shag tennis balls all day long.  "Hello, Hoppsy," my father says, as though he's been expecting her. He sits on the tailgate of his long-bed '65 Chevy, Crawford, our English shepherd, content at his side. Lucy, the calico, purrs on his lap. Hopps is crouched and ready, her gaze trained upon the ball, bright yellow and fresh from the can, snapped tight into the cup of the Chuck-It in Dad's hand. Dewy grass shimmers in sunlight. He pulls back. She's off! He flings it, and all is right with the afterworld.

   "What's this sock doing in the middle of the living room floor?" Ron might have asked on any given day over the past 11 eleven years.
    "I don't know," I'd say. "You'll have to ask Hoppsy."

In heaven, there are infinite socks to steal.

In heaven, you can eat all the cat food you want and not barf. You can sniff all the cat's butts and goose them with your nose whenever you get the urge and none will ever scratch your nose. You can go hiking, chase prairie dogs, leap over logs and wade through creeks -- shallow streams just right for a dog who can't swim -- running clear and cold to quench your thirst and cool your paws. In heaven, you can roll on cow pies or fish carcasses and nobody makes you take a bath. Ever.

There are no thunder storms in heaven.

You can eat all the licorice and Jelly Bellies you want and not barf.



You'll always be with us, Hoppsy. You'll always be our girl. 



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