Skip
December 25, 2013- April 2, 2024
Loved by Kym & Mark Fleming
Dear Skip,
You came to us 6 years ago as a man of mystery. Never raced, and yet you
weren’t released to an adoption group until you were 4—where were you
for those years and what was life like? You had a few foster homes
before ours—including one where you were able to roam free and footloose
on a ranch with a rambling dog buddy—I like to think of that time for
you, and I know you were happy. You had some rough bumps along the way
in finding the right forever home. And then you came to us, a complete
bundle of heart and love, wrapped up in a blanket of worries and fears.
We fostered you, never intending to adopt you—too soon after losing our
first greyhound. And having heard your story and knowing your
anxiousness, I was pretty sure I wasn’t ready to take that on and give
you a forever home. But I was wrong. Turns out, we were willing to cover
every inch of our house in rugs, be a buffer for the things that scared
you, and to try to give you those experiences that made you happy every
day of your life.
We discovered that there was a lot that gave you joy, including running
free in the pasture on E & S’s farm, and being with your Greyhound
pals. Nothing made you more excited than meeting a posse of Greyhounds
for a walk. You also loved your human friends with a quiet and fierce
loyalty, and the wild, scrambly happy dances you would perform when we
had a favorite visitor were nothing short of fantastic.
Every night, you would come and stand between the two of us as we sat at
the dinner table. It wasn’t to beg for or grab food. You just stood
between us and waited for scritches and rubs from us each in turn. Then
you went back to your bed. We never knew exactly what that ritual was
all about, but we will miss it.
Thank
you for the endless love, delight, loyalty, and companionship. We miss
you every single day and always will. We want to officially apologize
for taking you to get a picture with Santa that very first year—we just
didn’t think it through, but you bore it with patience and quiet angst.
Run free and be wild! Those who knew and loved you have assured us that
your path to the Rainbow Bridge was paved with rugs. Dance on, little
buddy.