Across the Rainbow Bridge | Guideposts

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Pepe was a black Chihuahua, but he had a personality the size of a Great Dane. When my dad called, “Here, boy,” Pepe jumped into his lap or followed him anywhere. Pepe even waited outside the bathroom door while my dad shaved in the morning and again when he brushed his teeth before bed.

 

Whenever we visited Dad my children liked to play with Pepe and wind him up to the point where their grandpa called Pepe “wild.”

 

“Have you tamed little Pepe yet?” my twins, Emily and Joey, loved to ask when they called Grandpa.

 

“Still wild,” Grandpa would say.

 

When Dad passed away, Pepe came to live with us. He loved the kids. Pepe insisted on sitting perfectly in the middle of them whenever we got in the car—but sometimes I believed he missed Dad as much as I did.

 

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