It was four years ago today that Dermot, my beloved Basset Hound, passed away at age 13.
Dermot was still around during Pippin's first year, and while Pippin's puppy rambunctiousness was not always appreciated by the elderly gent, the two did spend significant time together in more sedate activities, such as observing the world from the daybed on the enclosed front porch.
I had hoped that Pippin would learn from Dermot's behaviour — Dermot was a hound who rarely felt the need to bark, and he had the ability to charm and put at ease everyone he met, from the elderly to infants. Pippin, alas, is much more of a goofball who is not necessarily the best student at evaluating situations, and he is far too willing to make his voice heard for my (and, I fear, my neighbours') ears. But in his quiet moments, Pippin sometimes displays Dermot's remarkable skills as a companion.
I still miss Dermot every day, but I am comforted by having his great-nephew around.
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