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| My sister, Liana, with Whopper in our Hialeah home. |
Whopper was my dog. But that's a really mundane statement. Whopper was more than my dog. He was my friend and teacher. Yes, teacher. You see, there were those moments in our lives when my husband, Dennis, and I would just look over to our "dog", and his wise little eyes would simply tell us - "Just Be". "Just Be". What a simple concept. And so hard to do. Dennis and I remind each other of this and other "wisdoms" culled from our time with Whopper. Hopefully, I'll be able to impart them to you.
A little biography on Whopper.
Whopper came into our lives via my sister, Liana. She was coming home from her shift at the hospital and had stopped at Burger King to get something. Shivering next to the generator was this little puppy. With the help of a few well placed burgers, she managed to get him into her car and over to my house. We had just lost our Cocker Spaniel, Buffy, so the thought of getting another dog was the furthest thing from our minds. Well, my sister changed that. Dennis gave the puppy a bath, experiencing for the first time one of our cherished memories - "the baby Whopper smell". It's that combination of clean and puppy that we'll carry with us always. He was little, but he had all the markings of a Dobie. I figured he'd grow into a monster. So appropriately, we called him "Whopper". The next day, Dennis took him to the vet for his checkup and basically to find out what kind of dog he was. Upon entering the house I asked him, "Well, how big is he going to get ?". Dennis replied by taking his hand and hovering it just a few inches higher than Whopper's head. "He's a terrier-dachshund mix. Or at least that's the closest we can come". So it looked like my Whopper would be a Whopper Jr. No matter, Whopper was his name and he soon lived up to it.
