I LOVE dogs. (Sorry Canie.) Last March we lost our dear Chica. She was 17, had cancer, an eye condition that could, at any time, rupture her cornea, was deaf and blind, and on the day we took her to the vet's to be put down, she had refused a treat of her absolute favorite thing in the world: a piece of banana.

A few years earlier, noticing her rapidly deteriorating health, I started preparing for the inevitable. I bought a puppy, and named him Paco. (All our dogs are chihuahuas, and they are not little yappy ankle biters, as legend has it.

Two days later, I went back for Paco's aunt, Rosie, aka, Roseball. (All these dogs but Chica are long coats.) A year later, I was visiting my friend, the breeder, and just had to have Paco's sibling from a different litter, Symba, (Beautiful symmetrical markings and Ruby Eyed--very rare.) Finally, as Chica was getting closer and closer to her demise, I was visiting my friend and caught sight of Rosie's grandpuppy, a tiny little ball of fur, white with brown spots, whom I named Pixel.

Now the others are pretty independent, but Pixel is by my side night and day. Sweetest little thing.

So yes,I like dogs, the smaller the better.
Who wants an Irish Wolfhound in bed with you at night (except another Irish Wolfhound)?

Cathryn