She’s no Clover Meadow, but Cindy is my endearing shadow these days. When people ask “is that your dog?” I answer “no, I’m her human.” I’m Cindy’s third human in the past ten years. Her first was an elderly woman who passed away when Cindy was just three years old. The woman’s family didn’t want another dog so off she went to the shelter where my mother found her. Cindy climbed up into my mother’s lap, put her paws on Mom’s shoulders, and hugged her. Seriously. Schipperkes do that, I’m told.
Schipps are very loyal dogs, preferring to bond with one person rather than an entire family. Since Mom’s passing in October, Cindy has sort of drifted around all of us, sleeping on my bed, my childrens’ beds or on a chair, wherever she felt safe, I suppose. Now that I’m taking over Mom’s studio, Cindy has decided that I’m officially her person and follows me everywhere. Having lived without a canine companion for so many years, I am truly honored to have been accepted by her.