Dusty, our miniature dachshund, died yesterday. She was one month short of her fifteenth birthday.
When her constant companion, Tinker, passed seven months ago, I knew she wouldn't last another year, but she had been doing surprisingly well until yesterday when she suffered a series of seizures, or stokes. The vet suspects they were the result of a brain tumor.
People always talk about dogs giving unconditional love - Dusty didn't necessarily give it, but she demanded it. She always considered herself the Alpha, and we were just members of her pack.
God, we will miss her.
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