The BPR

 The BPR

    One of the few failings I found in the South Gate Sheehys was the lack of animals in their home. Compare this to the abundance of sometimes annoying but always beloved animals in the Creason sphere. We always had dogs, cats, hamsters, rats, tortoises,  circus lizards and one horned toad. Part of the Sheehy situation was that Grace was not a lover of furry beasts and John as a former mailman had some unfortunate experiences with dogs and I believe had a scar on his forearm from a canine bite. Greg cared for a couple of cats, one a beautiful white feline  named Nana and the fierce Fergus, an untameable tiger coated bastard who was battle-scarred but unrepentent. Both left McNerney one day and were never seen again without much fuss in the house. Many years later after Greg had found his Lissy and the red-headed blessings appeared, the subject of animals came up. Cats did not last but at one point the kidlets saw a little doggie on the internet who was awaiting a furrever home at the Pasadena Humane Society. There is a lot more to this story that can be filled in but the family brought home a small brown dog they named Claire. That superb doggie was mostly known as Clairie as the years passed and she won hearts wherever there were humans with feels  in their chests. I personally adored this little girl and would give her treats after she danced for me on my frequent visits. She was a delightful chum and provided the most wonderful company in the front room or on a hiking trail. Ed and Kathleen showed her love and she gave it back perfectly. However, her greatest feat was thawing the chilly heart of the man of the house who sat in his leather throne where no animals had ever joined him. Clairie had an adorable little whine when she longed to show gratitude and she directed it to this tough old boot until he quietly leaned over a bit to allow her to snuggle in beside him in that sacred space. Clairie had one strange peccadillo where she did not like the fireplace, although she loved the warmth. Greg cursed her for her timidity but he grumbled with affection. Sometimes she would just hang with us in the parlor and look at Greg with devotion while emitting a little love whine. After a couple of draughts of wine every now and then he would look at the little doggie and tell me she was "the BPR" or "Best Pup Resource." It was a well-deserved title of respect and love. When Clairie moved onto rainbow bridge it was the second saddest day I ever experienced from Francis but her ashes were scattered out at the Duke where she once was a trail-doggie extraordinaire. "Good dogs don't live long enough"  I mean...just look at this face.