Young Winston was born for adventure. The 8 pound Yorkshire terrier rode on our Dad’s high-powered motor boat every summer on Lake Norman.
As our family drove to Asheville, this dog stood on his hind legs, next to the window. The mountain air blew his thick coat of hair. This was Winson’s preferred “air conditioning.”
Once at our destination, Winston led the way!
This energetic Yorkie attended many of my brother Lee’s soccer games. Winston hustled down the sidelines, quicker than the coaches themselves. I was not certain if the fans were cheering for the team’s players, or for Winston!
When our dog matured, he hurt his eye while playing in the park. His veterinarian determined that the left eye had to be removed.
The medical procedure did not stop Winston. He continued to jump over gates and “doggie paddle” in our family’s pool. The next summer, he shared a raft in the pool with Albert, a white whippet from next door.
Winston chaperoned my steady boyfriend and me on long, summer, neighborhood strolls.
And, yes, the dog kept his one watchful eye on my date when the guy leaned over to kiss me goodnight. Winston was always protective of me.
One late summer afternoon, our mom left home to select a wedding gift for our friend, Ford, and his bride. Ten minutes after she drove away, Winston became clumsy.
He plopped his small body down, under the shade of a tree. He motioned to me to take off his leash, and then his collar.
I looked at the dog’s face closely. His right eye was despondent. Winston put his head down, and very slowly closed his one eye. Our 18-year-old Yorkie went to sleep. Forever.
Robyn Lynne Benjamin is a freelance writer and photographer. She has enjoyed working with children and college students.
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