My little white doggie Dasher has been with me 12 years as of this weekend - January 14, 1995.
Even after she broke her back in 1996 she still had the spunk to climb up and tended to sleep on me for some time. As she has gotten older and slower, this is not possible any more.
I know her time is winding down, but she is still my tiny girl.
When we got Dasher she bonded very quickly with Babie, and has managed to tolerate Tiger, at least for the most part.
The past couple years she has pretty much gone with me everywhere. In part, this is because I am not home a lot and she would not be able to go out when she needed to. She takes medicine for her injuries and I can better regulate it this way. Also, this is in part a solution to having the Grinch living upstairs from me; a woman who has reported Dasher to the landlord for being loud when locked up, and me for being loud when I was at work during my nightshift era at Safeco.
When I wrecked the van recently, more people asked if Dasher was okay first, which I can understand in part since I was standing there and obviously not critically injured, but was still a bit much ...
These days I have to wait for her instead of having her run ahead of me, and sometimes I carry her up the stairs, but there are times where her spark is still there.
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