Remembering Bumper

This week Mary couldn't walk with the ladies when they explored the Trinity University campus. Naturally I'm disappointed as I've heard they have scads of squirrels there. Instead, she and my master, Lewis, went to the inauguration of a new exhibit at Mission San Juan Capistrano.

While there, Mary heard of another Olmos Park oddity. It's a house owned by Cynthia, a board member of Los Compadres, a support group for San Antonio's missions. Cynthia lives in a storybook house, based on Hansel and Gretel, and she's invited the WWTs to stop by for tea. (I wonder if she has cats. Not MY cup of tea).

I'm going to dedicate the rest of my column to a canine I never had the pleasure of sniffing. Last week, I mentioned an outgoing pug that greeted passersby as he sat in front of an Olmos Park home, sitting between two dressed-up stone statues of dogs.

He wasn't there the day we passed and sadly, my friend J.D. (for "Just Dog") explained why. He emailed (with the technical help of his mistress, who has a PhD in computer science), "the pug, named Bumper, went to doggie heaven a week or so ago. All the neighborhood pups miss seeing him in the front yard." Upon hearing the news, Ann--another WWT--wrote in to say, "so sorry about Bumper...it won't be the same walking by."

With the help of J.D's mistress, Pat, I got in touch with Bumper's mistress, Susan (who serves on the Olmos Park City Council with Pat). It's so sad when your dog dies," Susan told Mary. "Bumper was a member of our family." A second-generation pug owner, she recalled her pet as "a social animal" who loved to greet passersby from the front yard.

It became "kind of a ritual" for Bumper to run to the door in the morning, waiting to be tethered in front, she recalled. "More people seemed to know him"-- even the garbage collectors, who greeted him by name. When she ran for city council, Susan included Bumper in her campaign photo, noting "Bumper wants your vote, too." Born on New Year's Day in 1998, Bumper was eleven and a half when he died.

In doggie heaven, he's no doubt sitting between the pearly gates, greeting all who enter.