Today, we said goodbye to our dog, Parker. He was 8.

Cancer got him far too soon. We got a little dog thinking he would live longer than a larger one, since we lost our last dog early as well. Coincidentally, also to cancer. Life isn’t fair.

Parker had so much attitude, but was also a lazy little mutt. He looked so much like a Jack Russell our first vet wouldn’t let us leave a visit until we forwarded the DNA test that said he was 25% Poodle, 25% Japanese Chin, and 25% Cavalier King Charles Spaniel. The other quarter was “Various”.

Parker spent most of his life in the pandemic. Which means that he spent a lot of it with me, sitting (or, more accurately, sleeping) behind me, on camera, as Zoom work happened. Dozens of people at work know Parker as my background companion.

Parker was also a fierce defender of the house; no UPS, FedEx, or Amazon delivery went unchallenged. He loved our usual postal delivery person, but bristled at any replacement.

Any little dog, or a black dog with white coloring, was an instant enemy, producing a fierce bark not backed up by his 22 pounds.

But, at his heart, he was a goofball. Playful, as long as you played his game. And more a fan of the sun that us.

We already miss you, buddy.