She was my daughter's "baby," but the whole family loved her dearly and enjoyed her "wild and crazy" personality. She was a purebred, miniature daschund with a very noble heritage.
She had, in her 17th year of life, developed severe arthritis, poor circulation, lung problems and incipient cancer. She was gently released from her suffering, today.
My daughter always teased me and said that I treated that dog like I did my grandchildren...I guess I did, but Lord, she was just like her name...totally Precious.
Her remains will be cremated and my daughter has a little, black urn with a plaque. Now, if I can just stop crying..............
Well, my whole life isn't about adoption!