I can't handle signing on and seeing Skip's little face, so I have to blog about something else to get my mind off of our loyal fallen friend. Uncle Mick pointed out to me that, at 17, it would be less than a year before Skippy would be able to walk into a gas station and buy a pack of cigarettes. In a few years, we'd all be buying him shots at Krock's Pub for his 21st. He truly was a miniature Pomeranian shaped staple in our lives and I don't think any of us will ever forget chasing him down the turnpike when he got loose going home from vacation, or searching for him in the Poconos when he slipped out of his collar and started running, or chasing him barefoot in the snow up the golf course when he'd escape from our house, forcing him to swim in the bay at LBI, how he ate the eyes off all our stuffed animals the first year we had him, or getting mad at him for snacking from Smokey's litterbox. Grandma Debbie pointed out that one of the only people he knows in heaven is Smokey. Can you imagine how bummed Smokey was to see Skip crossing that Rainbow Bridge? Haha. I remember the day we got him he was playing roughly in the yard with his little sister. Tears sprung in my eyes when I realized that he would never again see his very best friend. I hope they are tumbling around in heaven together right now and I hope that they are leaving my dear Smokey alone.
Other than cry about Skippy, this weekend we dined at Grammy and Pops (Jax new thing is saying, 'MY Grammy. MY Pops.' I think she means 'MY' as in 'not Hilly's.' Nice. Also, Jackie and I attended the 9 year old girl next door's birthday on Saturday and then she stopped over again yesterday evening and we played with sidewalk chalk for awhile. She LOVES Jackie. Apparently talks about her all the time to her friends and family. That makes 2 of us! Then Will came over last night until 7:15. She's at school today and Hilly and I miss her dearly.
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