Otis

Otis, we tried to locate you by making a lot of calls to find out which shelter you were in. We were told you didn’t bark when we met you; however, in the parking lot all you did was bark. I worried you might be a “barker,” but I believe you were just scared. You probably wondered where you were going next, and I hoped you were excited to go to your forever home. You got in our car and never barked for a week—only when you saw another dog in the neighborhood.

We got you when you were about a year and a half old. You had been roaming the streets, and you’d learned that garbage cans sometimes had food in them. We quickly learned to childproof the trash cans inside—we couldn’t leave anything out. Even during Christmas dinner, you started eating the Yule log dessert we’d made. I was grateful you began at the end; I just cut that part off and no one knew what happened. That wasn’t the first time—and it wasn’t the last! You once scared us to death by grabbing a corn on the cob. We rushed you to the vet, and thank God you chewed it up really well, so it passed through your system over the week.

All along, you loved your walks and our family vacations. Your soft coat felt like velvet. I also remember the first few months when we put you in the yard—you would climb the fence and end up at the front door because you wanted back in. You loved us. And you learned to knock on the sliding door to let us know you wanted to come inside.

You were a great sleeping partner, too. And we sure miss you. Your mom and I were blessed to have you in our lives, and we’ll never forget you. Love, Mom and Dad Julie and John