Daisy & Zeke

On Thursday, we lost our dear friend Paco.

Paco was about 16 years old at my best calculation.  I believe he was about 4 or 5 when we got him 11 years ago.  As an earlier post indicated, Paco’s last few months have been rough.  I was able to visit with him last week while visiting Indy.  He could no longer see or hear, but he still recognized me through smell.  His little tail wagged furiously when he smelled my hand, and he got even more excited when he realized that Daisy and Zeke didn’t come with me this time.

Paco was the first dog we had growing up who was truly MY dog.  He liked the company of my parents, but had a completely different personality when I was around.  He would light up when I came home from college.  I wanted to move him with me to the DC area post graduation, but my parents said he was too old to handle the move at that point (I think they were just too attached to let him go).  I got Paco the weekend of my 16th birthday.  My cousins in Tennessee had some health problems and could no longer care for him.

Paco was a great dog.  He loved to sit outside in the sun.  He thrived on barking fits at the cats.   He also loved his small, stuffed Chicago Bulls ball.  He played with it until it literally fell apart.  I could throw it in the air, and he would jump up and catch it.  I wish I had known about flyball and agility then, because Paco would have loved dog sports.  When I lived at home with Daisy for several months, Paco acted like he didn’t like her, but then I would catch them curled up together.

This post is to honor and remember Paco.  We will miss him…