Mimi found Skipper hiding under a dumpster at the corner of South and Freedmont almost five years ago. She wasn’t looking for a puppy, but that’s how it usually goes. After she’d watched those floppy ears and oversized paws roam through her no-pets-allowed apartment, she put Skipper into a box, loaded him into the car, and took him to a shelter. He’d make someone very happy one day.
Mimi didn’t realize it would be her until she parked at the shelter and opened the back door. Skipper was nestled into the corner of the box, looking up at her with sad, brown eyes. Mimi could see the fear in them, the worry that his newest friend would abandon him in some unknown place and he’d never see her again.
“It’s okay,” Mimi told him.
And that’s how Skipper adopted Mimi for good.
They went everywhere together. Mimi always dreamed of being a travel writer, and you don’t get to do that if you can’t travel in the first place. But within a month, with Skipper always a few steps behind her, Mimi rearranged her dream to include her golden companion.
“It’s a niche market,” she explained to her mother. “There are a ton of places where you can travel, but a lot of them don’t allow dogs. So if I limit myself to writing about where dogs can go, I’ll miss the obvious places and focus on more unique areas.”
Which is exactly what she did. Mimi didn’t focus on national parks or state reserves. She wrote about winding beaches, rocky shores, and dog-friendly forests. She trained her dog to walk beside her, no leash required, but she never once had to train him to follow her in the first place.
Skipper did that all on his own.