Peppers Last Gift

Whatever life thread is each year, come Christmas our family had one constant tradition.

Our dog, Pepper, opened our presents for us.

When our black lab mix was just a gangly adolescent puppy, we had only given her unbreakable

gifts to unwrap, things like pajamas and steering wheel covers.

We proved to be so careful that we soon gave her any gift that wasn't edible.

Every time, Pepper found the seam in the wrapping paper with her snout and held the present

down gingerly with her forepaws.

Her front teeth pried up the lip of the paper with the utmost care.

Then she removed every inch of wrapping paper before stepping back to line the midst

of our gathering.

She never bid or scratched the gifts themselves.

Parents and relatives who joined our family celebrations never believed Pepper could

be so delicate until they witnessed her talents.

Watching our sweet dog unwrapped gifts, always warmed the holiday, which was often a little

bittersweet because of college, studying abroad or work commitments often kept my two sisters

and myself away.

One year, everyone made it home for a Christmas together.

I was back from Ireland, Casey flew in from Arizona and care visited him college.

Mom's due balance kept her busy baking cookies for all of us.

Our Christmas season should have been perfect.

It couldn't feel perfect though because Pepper's health was deteriorating.

...