Copper Capehart: 2005-2023

He was a ball of fur on legs, a streak of black and white, contrast in motion. Copper was our daughter’s Christmas present, the dog she had dreamed of for years, and he was running away from us as fast as his little legs could carry him. He had slipped out of his collar and was making a break for the territory. He would do this often in the coming years.

That first escape was a shock because we had just picked him up from the shelter. Later escapades were less surprising but more terrifying. We knew by then that he had no fear of cars and we imagined the worst every time he got away.

But ever so gradually he settled down. He used his powerful shoulders to dash down the deck stairs instead of catapulting himself over the couch. He bared his teeth to smile instead of bite. He decided he would stay here a while.

Seventeen years later, time finally caught up with our dear pup. Today was his final escape, and darned if we didn’t engineer it ourselves. But only because we loved him so much.

Rest in peace, Copper. We will never forget you.