There must be a light under the bushel!

Sad day

Yesterday, I had to put my dog to sleep. My little munchkin was 15 years old and had what we think was a brain tumor.

I got Ginger a few weeks before my 16th birthday, and I'll never forget the events that led to her being such a big part of my life. I went to the mall with a friend, and we wandered into the pet store. They had this adorable little golden-colored Llasa Apso in one of the kennels. I couldn't resist the smooshed face and soft fur. I begged to hold her. Uh oh. Now that I had held her, I wasn't letting go.

I called my parent from the pay phone (Note: this was before teenagers attached themselves to their own cell phones). I cried and pleaded but to no avail. They told me to come home and we'd talk about it some more. I know they were thinking if they could just get me away from the dog, they'd have a chance. No way.

I went home and presented a darn good case. We hadn't had a pet for quite some time, not since our other Llasa ran away when I was in the 6th grade. I told my parents that I was just one of those people who had to have a dog. It was actually cruel to keep me from having one. Ok, that's not the argument that worked.

I dangled the ultimate carrot. You know how much kids in high school pester their parents for a car? Well, I was one of them, and my 16th birthday was fast approaching. If they'd get me this dog, I would never speak another word about a car. I'd walk for the rest of my life, if I could only get that dog. That cinched it. I did get my mom's old car, so I didn't exactly suffer, but I stayed true to my word and didn't pester them for a newer one, like my brother had gotten. I never regretted the promise.

My dad took me back to the pet store and shelled out the $450.00 ridiculous dollars for my pet. I like to tell my dad it was the best money he ever spent! I have tons of pictures of her over the years, and she has been with me through the toughest of times. There are so many things she meant to me, I don't know how to begin.

She loved to snuggle. She curled up next to me each night and had to be touching me.

She would sit back on her butt with begging legs swinging through the air for indeterminate lengths of time until she got some people food. Every once in a while, a paw would push you to remind you she was waiting patiently. Then, if you walked away, she'd try to climb on the table and snag whatever she could!

When she wanted to play and you didn't, she'd nip at your ankles until you finally gave in.

She loved to ride in the car with her head just poking out the window to feel the air.

When I was sad and cried, she'd lick my tears.

I tried to take her for walks, and she'd lie down halfway through, so I'd have to carry her the whole way home.

When someone was watching TV, she'd climb right in your lap, whether you wanted her or not, and if you didn't give her enough room, she'd push until you moved over.

Sometimes she'd wrap herself around my head when I was sleeping to try and get closer.

If anyone tried to touch me, she'd get all snarly and growl at them.

She loved to sunbathe in the spring and the fall.

Anythime we cooked chicken or eggs, she'd try to get in the trash to find leftovers.

She might have been a pain in the ass as much as she was a joy, but I loved my dog; she was part of my family, and I'll miss her always.