Mockingbird Rescue

The vet estimated he was about three months old. A Chorkie (a Yorkie/Chihuahua mix), he was a tiny thing. Named after Harper Lee’s most infamous character, he immediately became a part of our family. Walking with me to pick up “his boy” at school, he would patiently wait at the back of the building when school let out. When his favorite third grader walked out—well, his excitement was evident to all nearby. It wasn’t long until the kids, as well as the “parent-pick-up” crowd, knew him by name. He went on vacations and went camping, he ran in the woods and the ocean. From Maine to Florida. He’s been our sidekick for ten years. That third grader graduates from high school this year. We bought a travel trailer to vacation in. A large part of that decision was, well... you know.

We’d been the owners of a couple of cats over the years. We had one other dog many years ago, for a short time before she died. So, we weren’t so much, “dog people.” That was before. A dog, maybe especially a small breed, becomes a member of the family. They love without restraint. They become a part of us. It cannot be avoided.

Man’s best friend. Name me another animal bestowed that moniker. Right. There are none. My wife and I have discussed the day—when he’s no longer with us. We’re older now, close to retirement. If something would happen to him—it seems that we can’t imagine filling that space. Besides, he’s still got years ahead of him. Sure he does.

Somehow, this little boy showed up on the sidewalk where my wife works, and he came to live with us. You can’t help but get attached. He’s our good boy, Boo Radley.