Princess

This is my favorite animal in the whole world. Her name is Princess, and she was born more years ago than I care to remember. When she first came to my brother and his wife, I could hold Princess in the palm of my hand. Literally. Who would think puppies are that tiny? But it's true. Hold her in the palm of my hand. She has been a joy and a delight. A neice when I had none. A wonderful temperment. A playful attitude. She loved to run and jump and play, and I love her.

I have found her, on my trips home, growing more and more tired and old. She has bouts with incontinence, doesn't seem to hear you all the time, and tends to lay in the sun more than play in the sun.

It saddens me. Deeply. I know there is a clock ticking for all of us. But watching the clock wind down is a painful, intimate kind of hurt. People hurt. They tell you so. Animals hurt. You can see it. Oh how I love her. I tell her so. I tell her that I love her and that she is my favorite. She is, you know. She really is.