Today I had to say goodbye to a very special friend. Slinky. She was a dappled mini-dachshund, and my soul-doggie. The kind of dog that comes around once in a lifetime, giving me morning hugs, and doing a happy dance when I fed her, and singing when she heard opera on the TV. She could be sound asleep and when opera came on, she would begin to sing in her sleep. She would howl and it sounded like she was saying ‘I love you’. She’d snuggle next to me, so close she took up most of the space in a huge king size bed. She’d watch me work on my laptop, and when I shut the computer top, she’d jump all over the bed, knowing we were going downstairs. She was a mad ball chaser. She brought me years of joy, and gave me a place to bury my tears as well as kisses after I lost my husband, LJ, eight years ago. It’s amazing she had any fur left on her body I petted and smooched her so much. She’s always been very healthy, but about a month and a half ago I almost lost her when she became deathly ill from congestive heart failure that brought on pneumonia. It came on suddenly, and by some miracle, our local mountain vet, Dr. Joe, was able to save her and I got one more precious month and a half with her that I truly treasured. She was healthy and vibrant and her old self. And then, two days ago, the problems returned with a vengeance, and her little body began to shut down. She was thirteen and I had to make the heartbreaking decision to let her go. Amazing how you can love a little dog so unconditionally. She saved me many times, and I couldn't bear seeing her suffer when I knew her condition wasn't going to improve, only get worse. Dr. Joe agreed. He said he could maybe get her through a few more days, but I said no, it was time. And I gave my sweet little Slinky one last kiss goodbye and told her to say hi to LJ. Carol