December 5, 1993
July 2, 2001
“The Joy of Pepsi”

Pepsi – what can I say? In his short seven and a half years he brought so much joy to our lives. When our Boston Terrier Penguin turned ten years old, I knew I needed another Boston, so we looked in the classified ads. I called a breeder in Wedron, Illinois, who had two male puppies for sale. It was a Saturday evening, and my husband Jeff and I planned to go after work just to “look at” them. The breeder gave me directions from our house in Naperville, about 45 minutes away, he said. He also said, “We’re the only two-story house in town.” That should have given us a clue that, when we reached Wedron, we would miss it if we blinked our eyes!

Anyway, we started our trip just to “look at” the pups about 6:00. It was a bitter cold January night, and not long after we got on the road the snow started. It was a blizzard. The 45-minute trip turned into two and a half hours. Of course, once we got there and found the two-story house, there was no way we were going home without a new dog. Of the two pups, we chose Pepsi. (Jeff had a Boston named Pepsi when he was a boy, so we had already chosen the name.)

We got home after another harrowing two and a half hour trek. Although it was late at night, we introduced Pepsi to Penguin, who hated him on sight. So, for the first few weeks Pepsi stayed in our daughter’s room. We could only let the two boys in the same room together if we were there to supervise because Penguin couldn’t stand another dog stealing our affections.

Penguin always lay in my lap whenever I was sitting down; and one Sunday evening while Jeff and I were watching a video, Pepsi snuck up beside me and also lay down. By the end of the movie, Penguin had given up and accepted Pepsi into the family. After that, they were pals, although Pepsi had tremendous energy and was sometimes too much for Penguin. Finally, Pepsi could sleep in bed with Jeff and me. His spot was across the top of our pillows, next to the headboard.

Not long after, we got Pluto and then Pogo; so for a short time we had four Bostons. Fortunately, Penguin accepted both of them; and Pepsi was delighted to have two more buddies.

Pepsi had tremendous energy and was constantly getting into trouble! He was always finding stuffed toys and ripping out the stuffing or tearing out the eyes. When Jeff and I got home from work or shopping, he would jump up so high we barely had to bend over to get his kisses. Pepsi would actually climb into the dishwasher when I was doing the dishes and lick the plates clean.

Pepsi and I had a really fun routine. We would sing together. But first, we had to lubricate our voices. So I would get a glass of iced tea and take a drink; then Pepsi would take a drink. I would start singing and Pepsi would join in. We weren’t very good, but it sure was entertaining!

Every morning when Jeff and I got ready to leave for work, Pepsi would go hide under the bed. He didn’t want to go in his room for the day, so we would have to get a broom to prod him out from under the bed.

In December of 2000, Pepsi started having seizures. We took him to our vet, who referred us to a specialist. Our precious Pepsi had an inoperable brain tumor. We put him on medication to make him as comfortable as possible, and for a few weeks he seemed to feel OK. However, the seizures got worse – sometimes three or four a day. But, we kept hoping his health would get better.

Unfortunately, nothing helped. On July 2, 2001, soon after my husband and I, along with Pepsi, Pluto, and Pogo (we had already lost Penguin), came home after a trip to our cottage in Wisconsin he had a last seizure and died in my arms. Pepsi only lived six and a half months after the devastating diagnosis.

We had him cremated and his ashes permanently sealed in an engraved copper-coated zinc urn, which we keep in our breakfront, along with his collar and tags, photos, and other memorabilia. He’s also memorialized on our Dodge Dakota with “Pepsi 2” on the license plate and on our Dodge Caravan with “Pepsi 7” (because he was seven when he died).

Pepsi, you will never be forgotten.

--JoAnne Rosenfeld

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