Sunday, January 3, 2016


A little over six years ago, my sister got a dog (Kasey). Apparently, she talked with another sister before I arrived for Christmas to make sure she could send the dog over there if I couldn't stand her. (I was a little worried as well - I've never been a huge fan of dogs in the house, but most of my experience has been with big dogs, and Kasey was a miniature schnauzer, and I love my niece, so I figured we'd work it out.)

I think it took me about 5 seconds to fall in love with the dog - and vice versa. (I maintain that I was her favourite auntie, possibly due to the treats I brought).

She got sick in the spring, and spent the rest of the year being diagnosed with more and more conditions (Cushings, diabetes, blindness, and the list goes on). I went back to see her in August, and she was as sweet and cuddly as always, but she didn't have the energy she used to have.

(She would, however, still stand on her back legs if she thought there was a treat in it for her.)

My sister made the difficult decision to put her down 5 days before I arrived for Christmas. It was the right decision - she was in a lot of pain, and she wasn't getting better.

But man, the house is not the same without her.

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