Her health was on the decline, she'd been rapidly losing weight. Sunday night she refused her food and water, and could barely move her precious little head. Her doctor said if we hadn't brought her in, she would have passed on her own within two hours time. As heartbreaking as it all is, I have to stop myself from crying and remember the adorable, rowdy pup my stepfather gave me for Christmas when I was eleven.
She was a mischievous little dog and outlived her littermates by well over a decade. Somehow she survived all of her horrible eating misadventures: a full rack of ribs, a pound of chocolate, Begonias, dozens of my mother-in-law's Christmas biscotti.
She was kind enough to teach Muscles everything he knows about being a dog. She was his constant companion.
I spent over half my life with her by my side and I will miss her always.