My dog, Snoopy, inspired me to write this article on him.He is old now, and I always want to remember him through this.

My Dog Snoop and I have come a long way, eleven long years to be precise-that’s all his life. We’ve been through a lot together, yes we have. I’ve watched him grow from an adorable little pup to a fine young dog. I know his character very well, and wish I could say that he is very loyal ,like all dogs are supposed to be, but that would be stretching the truth a little too far.
See, I’ve had to leave Snoop for weeks at a time on my numerous trips. Usually, in the care of some relative, only to return and discover that my erstwhile faithful companion, my bosom pal, my Snoop, has transferred his allegiance to that particular relative. While happy enough to see me, snoop would rather go to that relative when its time to leave. “Come on boy”, I say, “time to go”, but, no show- Snoop was staying defiantly put. I had to win his trust again by apologizing profusely before he would come with me again; I guess I hurt his feelings by constantly leaving him at the drop of a hat whenever I travel.
This is not to say that he is not true to his species legendary track record of nobility. Once, when snoop was about three years old, I had an argument with my brother, a very loud argument. Snoop was visibly agitated, others know better than to come too close when snoop is with me because, he watches out for me like a guardian angel. The thing is, in this instance, he was confused, because, he loves my brother and I equally. Consequently, he kept running from one of us to the other, whinning, pleading, gently restraining by tugging at our clothes with his teeth till the ruckus was over. Then, he kept a vigilant eye on the both of us, as if he was urging to become friends again, dividing his time between the both of us in equal proportion. If that isn’t evidence of a noble heart, then I don’t know what is.
Ahh, but I love my Snoopy; he has been true r to me than most people I know. I have conversations with him and he listens patiently, adding his two cents now and then with a bark or two. when I’m sad ,he just sits and lays his head at my feet to comfort me, when I trail off in the middle of a sentence, he barks a little woof to encourage me to continue, or he gently nudges my foot with his paw or snout.Sometimes, he’s like my shadow, wherever I go , he goes, happily wagging his tail.
Now, Snoop, he loves the ladies, or should I say the bitches something terrible. His girlfriends usually come furtively poking their heads round my gate, looking for their guy. I suppose Snoop is very handsome to them, he is a fine specimen of his species.
Many are the cuts, bruises, wounds and broken bones I’ve tended to over the years, Snoop gets them from other dogs who object to him poaching bitches on their territories. I can’t say I blame them when I see evidence of snoops virility scattered all over the vicinity- little puppies that look just like him. Even now, part of his lower jaw has been torn off, in a fight I’m assuming so, now he has a lopsided jaw, but I love him anyway.
One of the things I admire about Snoop is his strength and fortitude.Once, someone, I don’t know who, God have mercy on them, inflicted a cut to snoops neck. It was so deep you could see the bone. Everyone said snoop was a goner, but snoop rallied, not only did he survive, he thrived. He is a survivor, and he inspires me to dig deep within myself when the odds are stacked against me.
Snoop can be ridiculous too, sometimes; I watch him chasing his own tail, especially, when he has an itch there and wants to reach it with his teeth. He carries on like this for long minutes, and I haven’t the heart to tell him this is an exercise in futility.But, being the smart canine that he is, he soon figures this out for himself .He quickly adopts another strategy which involves rolling in the grass, vigorously rubbing first one side, then the other, trying to rid himself of whatever is plaguing him, or he rubs himself against a wall in a very erratic manner that makes me wonder at his sanity.
My Snoop is quite old now, and his face is drooping.Sometimes, I call him droopy, but he always looks so offended, that I stop, out of consideration to his delicate sensibilities.
I get tears in my eyes when I think that life is just like this-gone too soon.
“I love you Snoop, you mangy mutt”, I say to him, tickling him behind his ear. He thumps his tail, but, otherwise doesn’t react, until I spy a tear rolling down his face…