I remember when my mother and I drove 3 hours to the pet store in hopes of adopting you. I told the adoption lady that I wanted you, and when you arrived, she handed me your leash. You were so skinny and bedraggled. Your hind end had been shaved off and you were in dire need of bath. But I fell in love with you anyway. You slept on my lap all the way back home. You didn't even flinch when I put you in the tub and shampooed you all over. That night, and many that followed, you slept in my bed snuggled next to me. I learned that you had quite the affinity for tennis balls. I also learned to keep food off the coffee table after you devoured a candy dish full of Hershey Kisses (foil and all), and I thought you might die from a chocolate overdose. My mom was so in love with you, too. She even got a puppy of your breed much to my dad's dismay. When I moved back to my parent's house, you and Lilly became sisters. Years later, when I moved back out, my mom wouldn't let me take you. I agreed since you and Lilly were so close. Still, I saw you often and you enjoyed your visits to see Rhett, my boyfriend's dog. I never knew your exact age since the vet estimated when I adopted you, but over the last few years, I knew you were entering your senior years. You kept injuring your leg chasing after the tennis ball, and you hated it when we made you stop to let it heal. You were also getting chubby, but I figured the medication for your skin allergies was the cause. Then just last year, you got really sick and my mom took you to the vet. They said you had pancreatitis. That meant we couldn't feed you treats anymore, and you were put on a special diet. You had a few reoccurences, but you always snapped out of it, getting back to your tennis ball obsession. Last week, my mom called. She said you were really sick this time. You couldn't keep anything down, and all you wanted to do was lay outside. She took you to the vet, and this time they said you had developed diabetes. You would require insulin shots twice a day for the remainder of your life. They also said you might have pancreatic cancer because of your big belly, but they couldn't be sure without a $400 x-ray in addition to the $400 in bloodwork and x-rays you already had. My mother and I, together, decided that the best thing would be to end your suffering. That was the hardest decision I have ever made. I hope you went peacefully. I never got to say goodbye, and I hope you understand. I prefer to remember you as I last saw you, pushing the tennis ball around the house, bugging everyone to play with you. I just want you to know that we all miss you terribly and Lilly has been moping around the house. I couldn't have asked for a better, sweeter dog.