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Sweet Pineapple

zolman

Updated: Dec 22, 2022



by Kathryn A. Zolman



It was a Sunday morning in August, and my daughter’s friend brought his dog to our house, a female dog named Pineapple. I love dogs! She was a chow, bull mastiff, and German shepherd mix with a long tail that thumped on the walls and floor. Probably the happiest dog I have ever met. Of course, my first question was, “How did you come up with the name Pineapple?”. He proceeded to tell us the story, which I loved so much that I turned it into a children’s book!


While Pineapple was at our house, she gave herself a grand tour and checked out all the rooms, making herself feel quite at home. After leaving, I noticed she had left us a little puddle on the upstairs carpet. Understanding that dogs have accidents, I wasn’t mad at all. I mentioned it to my daughter, and she was very surprised, given that she is such a well-behaved dog. I brushed it off as maybe she was just nervous about meeting new people. Little did I know that Pineapple would live with us a month later. She and her owner were about to become homeless. At that point, it dawned on me. Pineapple was marking her territory. She was claiming her spot. She set the intention that day to move into our house.


I don’t believe I have ever met a sweeter or more intelligent dog in my life. Her owner had taught her how to count. It became a nightly ritual, and I became her go-to for obtaining a rawhide chew. My alias was Chewy Lady. Pineapple would come and sit directly in front of me, staring at me with those big, beautiful brown eyes, and bark ever so softly to let me know it was time for a chewy. I would make her work for it just to act like she didn’t have me wrapped around her pinky paw. Holding up three fingers, Pineapple let out three barks. I never held up more than five fingers, though, as her soft barks were now bold and determined, as if she were performing on stage.


Pineapple had a very adventurous life. She fiercely loved people and had separation anxiety if left alone. According to her owner, she was an escape artist and had gotten herself out of several houses over the years. We experienced this first-hand one summer evening. It was a cool evening, and we were enjoying a small neighborhood bonfire. Leaving Pineapple in the house, we walked to our neighbors. The starlit sky was clear; we were listening to music, talking, and laughing. Out of nowhere, Pineapple comes prancing up to the fire pit. Somehow, she had managed to jump out of a two-story window and miraculously land unhurt in the hedges planted next to the house. This was when I learned we couldn't leave any windows open if Pineapple was home by herself.


I am forever grateful that I had the opportunity to know Pineapple. She lived a full life and had just turned ten years old a week before passing. It warms my heart to know her story will live forever through my children’s book. Now everyone can fall in love with sweet Pineapple as much as I did.








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