A number of years ago we purchased a poodle  named  “PePe” for our son for Christmas.  The puppy was bought from a litter of five.  It was difficult deciding which one to take.  So, we decided that we would sit down and whoever was the first to come to us would be the victor and go to his new home.  Since we lived in the city and did not have a fenced yard, we had to have a house dog.    But, our son never adapted to the poodle because he had wanted a german shepherd.  PePe loved to travel in the car.  When the car motor started,  he would fall over in the front seat and sleep until the car stopped.  He enjoyed many miles of travel throughout America.  His health was always good and we were able to enjoy PePe for 17 years.  We could tell as  he became older that he was not as spry;  and,  one day  after his 17th birthday, he had a heart attack and I rushed him to the vet.  He gave him a shot; and,  replied, “this will either cure him or kill him.”  I brought him home and in a matter of hours – he was gone.  I could not believe it because I felt that I could still feel his heart beating.  When my husband came home from work I was sitting on the sofa with PePe in my lap crying.  My husband said, “he is gone.”  I said “no, I can still feel his heart beating.”  Our good friend and neighbor, who had a dog, was called and asked to come down and verify that he was no longer with us.  His reply was, “yes, he is gone.”  After that our neighbor was called the “local coroner.”  It was pouring down rain that night.  My husband replied, “what are we going to do with him?”   I thought for a moment and said,  “I have a box which contained my silver which was wooden and inside had a white satin lining with purple velvet on the top;” and,  PePe fit in it, perfectly.  The next thing was to bury him  which we did.  We put the box in about five plastic bags and my husband  went out in the rain and buried him in the backyard flower bed.  The next morning my husband went out and checked to be sure everything was still intact.  Not too many months went by;  and,  I was weeding the bed and found a huge lava rock with “PePe’s” name on it, plus the date he was born and the date he died.  When we sold the house and moved,  we took the lava rock with us to remind us of a beautiful companion we had for 17 happy years.

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