Nickolas "Nickie" Richardson came into my life at Christmastime, 1991. I lived out in the country, and he was "dumped" and left for dead by someone who didn't care about him. He was bedraggled, matted, malnourished, and extremely frightened. He looked at me with eyes that begged for love, acceptance, and food. Since he arrived right at Christmas, and was undoubtedly a gift from Santa, he was named Nickolas (Nickie for short) in honor of St. Nicholas. Santa came for a special visit to our house early on Christmas Eve that year, and Nickie was enraptured by him, as noted in the posted photo.
I took him in, bathed him, and gave him a loving home. For the next twelve, almost thirteen years, he gave me companionship, unconditional love, and was as devoted a friend any person could have. He loved those occasions when he "got out" and would run down the driveway of our country home, ears flapping in the breeze behind him. He also loved Christmas and the opportunity to open presents. He considered it his mission in life to protect me from the vacuum cleaner. After a visit to the groomer, he positively preened for the camera.
A failing liver and other issues led to seizures, and Nickie passed away on April 25, 2003.
He wasn't just a puppy or a buddy, he was the one...the only...buppy.
I took him in, bathed him, and gave him a loving home. For the next twelve, almost thirteen years, he gave me companionship, unconditional love, and was as devoted a friend any person could have. He loved those occasions when he "got out" and would run down the driveway of our country home, ears flapping in the breeze behind him. He also loved Christmas and the opportunity to open presents. He considered it his mission in life to protect me from the vacuum cleaner. After a visit to the groomer, he positively preened for the camera.
A failing liver and other issues led to seizures, and Nickie passed away on April 25, 2003.
He wasn't just a puppy or a buddy, he was the one...the only...buppy.
Nickolas "Nickie" Richardson came into my life at Christmastime, 1991. I lived out in the country, and he was "dumped" and left for dead by someone who didn't care about him. He was bedraggled, matted, malnourished, and extremely frightened. He looked at me with eyes that begged for love, acceptance, and food. Since he arrived right at Christmas, and was undoubtedly a gift from Santa, he was named Nickolas (Nickie for short) in honor of St. Nicholas. Santa came for a special visit to our house early on Christmas Eve that year, and Nickie was enraptured by him, as noted in the posted photo.
I took him in, bathed him, and gave him a loving home. For the next twelve, almost thirteen years, he gave me companionship, unconditional love, and was as devoted a friend any person could have. He loved those occasions when he "got out" and would run down the driveway of our country home, ears flapping in the breeze behind him. He also loved Christmas and the opportunity to open presents. He considered it his mission in life to protect me from the vacuum cleaner. After a visit to the groomer, he positively preened for the camera.
A failing liver and other issues led to seizures, and Nickie passed away on April 25, 2003.
He wasn't just a puppy or a buddy, he was the one...the only...buppy.
I took him in, bathed him, and gave him a loving home. For the next twelve, almost thirteen years, he gave me companionship, unconditional love, and was as devoted a friend any person could have. He loved those occasions when he "got out" and would run down the driveway of our country home, ears flapping in the breeze behind him. He also loved Christmas and the opportunity to open presents. He considered it his mission in life to protect me from the vacuum cleaner. After a visit to the groomer, he positively preened for the camera.
A failing liver and other issues led to seizures, and Nickie passed away on April 25, 2003.
He wasn't just a puppy or a buddy, he was the one...the only...buppy.
