We'll miss you Potter

Thursday was an unexpectedly sad day. Our dog, Potter, died suddenly at our vet's office. I was with him.

Potter was born on May 21, 2000. He came to live at our house in August of that year. Here is the first picture we saw of him, when he was just one of the puppies we could choose:Potter
We've always felt that Potter was meant to be part of our family. Our daughter had been asking (really, begging) for a dog. She wanted one for her seventh birthday. We felt that a dog was a family pet. And I didn't want to be crabby about taking on the inevitable responsibility for my daughter's dog. But a family dog, that was a possibility.

While we were musing over breeds, and sizes, we took a trip to Montana. At a rest stop at St. Regis, Montana, we happened to chat with a lady who had the cutest little puppy. When we were all in the car, we talked about how THAT was a lot like the kind of dog we hoped to find. After a few minutes, we decided that one of us should find out more about that little dog. This woman very kindly told us, perfect strangers, about her new little puppy, and even gave us the internet address of her breeder.

So, we were introduced to the Lowchen breed. It seemed like a dream come true -- they were small, non-shedding (I'm allergic to dogs), and loved people. We contacted the breeder, who still had some litter-mates of the little dog we'd met. One was a little male who officially was called Volare Kings Kokanee, and unofficially, Monkey. He was smart, and had an expressed recessive gene for "short" hair. We decided we would call him "Potter", which seemed better to yell out the back door than "Gryffindor", which otherwise would have been perfect for a little lion dog. Even though Potter was hairy, he didn't have the right coat for a show Lowchen. However, he was perfect for a pet. And on August 30, 2000, Potter came to stay at our house.

Potter was funny, smart, and he liked being with us. These are good characteristics for any friend, human or canine. He loved chasing squirrels and cats in our yard, sneaking peanut butter off knives in the dishwasher (I had to be very firm about a down-stay here), our annual huckleberry picking jaunt (he ate berries off the bushes), and us.

I never knit for Potter, because he had far too much dignity and too much hair to wear doggy clothes. However, he put up with quite a lot of silliness from our daughter with resigned good grace. He loved to sit next to me when I knit, and to squeeze in between if one of the kids or my husband had the spot beside me.
He was the best dog we could have hoped for, and we miss him very much.


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