Ode to Skippy II
July 9, 1989 – December 4, 2004
Faithful readers of Creeps may recall a post way back in March of this year [2004] in which rumors swirled around the
disappearance of Skippy, the Newcomer’s senior dog. A wildly exaggerated conspiracy emerged about Skippy’s brief vacation and mysterious return, but in the end, all was back to normal in our household.
Unfortunately, such will not be the case in this, the last chapter of the story of Skippy. The lifeless body of the 15 year-old canine was discovered floating in the Newcomer’s backyard swimming pool by Skippy’s owner, Larry Newcomer. At this point the cause of death is still unknown, and seeing as an autopsy is unlikely, Skippy’s demise is likely to remain shrouded in a cloud of mystery, much like his life.
Four possibilities emerge given the evidence: The first would be foul play involving the junior dog, Indiana. Although the nefarious character of Indiana does nothing to exonerate him, he had little motive for elaborately staging Skippy’s death. A second option would be that Skippy’s arthritic legs gave out whilst he was drinking from the pool (as he was prone to do), he fell in and subsequently drowned, unable to swim to safety. Personally I think this theory is unlikely, because I believe Skippy would have found a way out or at least to a stair if he fell in while still conscious. A third possibility is that Skippy passed away while standing near the pool and fell in, thus dying of natural causes. And finally, we come to the most controversial theory.
Skippy was tired and old. His 75 doggy years had taken their toll and surviving two beagle puppies had irreparably damaged his psyche. He wasn’t thinking straight, he was in pain, he decided to end it all. So early in the morning on December 4th while the rest of the house slumbered, he slowly took one last walk around the house, and in his methodical way, he went out the doggie door into the back yard. With a shaft of moonlight beaming down upon the pool, Skippy made his way past the Sego Palm, under the water slide and around to the diving board. After painfully dragging his aching legs upon the platform, he stood in quiet solitude at the end of the board, staring at the water. With his feeble dog mind he tried to recall the good times. The car rides to school, the treats, the good scratches he’d had at the hands of his family. Those were good times, but they were all in the past, there was nothing to live for. And with his decision made, he started with a violent spinout and he sprinted like he hadn’t sprinted in years. By the time he reached the end of the board he was in full gallop and then he leapt. He leapt a leap that young dogs would dream off. He gracefully soared through the night air for what seemed like minutes. He floated – his silver fur shining in the moonlight – and finally he came splashing down. Down. Down. Down he went, and by the time he reached the bottom, he had given up his spirit, and Skippy was gathered to his people. Thus were the days of Skippy.
Considering that he had no soul, Skippy really had nothing to lose by taking his own life, and though suicide seems contradictory to the nature of most animal life, Skippy was always a little ahead of the curve. Plus he was a Schnauzer and we all know how depressed those Germans can be. It could have been that Skippy was a nihilist all along and just acting as if he were a Christian dog so as not to make waves in the family. I certainly appreciate that kind of irenic spirit. In the end, we will never know the exact cause of Skippy’s death. I prefer theory number three, personally. Being such a good dog, he doesn’t deserve the shame of being known as the Suicidal Schnauzer. That wouldn’t do for such a stately little dog. We shall remember him with dignity and love in our hearts.
Skippy was preceded in death by a Beagle named Barney, and is survived by his owners, his co-dog, Indiana, but no biological offspring (that we know of).
