Sergeant Kiwi

Six years ago, I moved back to Indy from Bloomington to finish college at IUPUI. It had been a really rough transition for me because everything I had known changed. I had left all of my friends behind, and I was basically starting over again. My wonderful parents noticed what a hard time I was having and offered to get me a puppy to help ease the stress of the move. I was thrilled and started looking for the perfect dog immediately. After a couple of weeks of searching the paper, I saw an add for a liter of Yorkshire Terrier puppies that I just couldn't pass up. My parents were sweet enough to drive me out to the owner's home an hour away from here. At the house, there were many tiny adorable puppies just begging to come home with me. But from the moment we went inside, I had noticed a scruffy, slightly older Yorkie sitting in a cage in the kitchen. I asked the owner about him, and he told me that the dog in the kitchen had a skin problem that made his hair fall out, but if I wanted him, I could have him for next to nothing. There was just something really special about that little guy, so I paid the owner and brought my new little man home with me.

After much discussion, we settled on the name Sergeant Kiwi, or Kiwi for short. Kiwi quickly became my best friend, and things seemed to instantaneously begin to improve. Not only was I doing better, but Kiwi's skin condition healed, and he ended up having the most beautiful fur. Over the next six years, Kiwi really became part of the Schell family. My parents grew so attached to him that they wouldn't let me take him with me when I finally moved out on my own. And I was happy that he got to stay on their nice big farm where I could visit him 3 to 4 times a week. Kiwi was there for all of the huge events that happened over the next few years. He was there through all of the holidays, birthdays, breakups, deaths, graduations, weddings, and births. He was so special to all of us.

Yesterday, after getting home from a good friend's bridal shower, I got a phone call from my mom and dad. Through the tears, they told me that Kiwi had been hit by a car and had died instantly. Growing up on the farm we had animals die constantly, but this was different. This was Kiwi. This was my little right hand man.

As many of you know, we spend Friday nights with my parents every week, and every week before we leave I give Kiwi a big hug and a kiss and tell him how much I love him. What's killing me is that I forgot to do that last Friday. We were in such a rush to get Hopey home and in bed, that I left without saying goodbye. I really wish I could get that moment back. You may think it's silly to be making such a fuss over a dog, and I would have to say that I really do understand. But I know many of you who's pets are part of the family, and you know where I'm coming from.

Since I didn't get a chance on Friday, I'd just like to send a big hug and a kiss to my little buddy. I love you to pieces my sweet Kiwi. You're already so missed.