When he came into our lives, we never expected such a flood of joy into our family.

Hopper was no ordinary traveler. He had been to every continent and, oh, how he made us laugh.

“They call me Hopper because I just can’t place my butt in one place,” he said, comically. “After all, I was born in a moving taxi. I just popped out of my mom. She didn’t even have to push.”

He spoke of his sojourn in the West Indies, Australia, Europe and Latin America.

It’s a shame I can only write a hundred words about him.

[100 words]

Friday Fictioneers is hosted by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields