Of course, she could be Cookie. Or Sugar. Or Abbey Road (my vote).
She was found in an apartment parking lot in Tennessee, a rabies tag on her collar and milk still dripping from her underpinnings.
Initially, she was found by someone who took her to a vet, who gave her a rabies shot and a tag. Pepper clearly was somebody's dog, so the first rescuer took her home to her barn to await a reunion.
Pepper apparently wasn't too keen on her new digs, so she busted out and ended up in that parking lot, where she made a bee line for my friend's son.
Andy and his wife already have two rescue dogs (whose combined energy could power a sizable village) in their apartment.
Tennessee Animal Control was of no help.
The first rescuer was not forthcoming.
It was just days before Christmas and the road trip home to Naperville. No one would/could take on this sweet, intelligent and docile Staffordshire mix.
Tucking Pepper into the backseat with the rest of the herd, Andy and his family headed north, making calls from there to here. Humane Society. Family. Extended family. Home. Heaven.
A Christmas Eve inquiry at church resulted in a preliminary introduction that will take place tomorrow with a Chicago family with four (that's 1-2-3-4) Chihuahuas.
Based on Pepper's gentle interest in Bandit, our 1,000-year-old dog, I think it may turn out to be a successful meet-up.
If not, you'll help this sweet and deserving 1-year-old find a forever home, won't you?
I knew you would. Thank you.
We'll drink a cup of kindness yet. For auld lang syne.
And for Pepper/Cookie/Sugar/Abbey Road.