my very hard decision

When the family gets a new dog, it seems to bond with exactly one family member in a special way. In June of 1997, six-week old Polly picked me. This is the only family pet that has ever picked me.

On Tuesday, I made the decision to put her to sleep. It was a difficult decision because most of the time she seemed to be a perfect cute little dog just laying on the floor. Unfortunately, she laid on the floor almost all the time to avoid respiratory distress caused by congestive heart failure and tracheal collapse. It was a very difficult decision because she could have lived on for several more years.

If you knew her, you knew that this little active dog would never have real quality of life when forced into inactivity. I will always remember a very vivacious dog who greeted each day with zeal. So, I'll honor that life by telling you just a few things about her:
1. One of my nicknames for her was Discount Dog because we got her from a dealer for much less than the going rate for purebred Pomeranians because her ears curled over instead of standing straight up. Susan saw her the first time and said "you watch, those little ears are going to pop right up." They did, almost immediately when we got her home at 7 weeks old. They stood straight and pointy until the moment she passed away. See her ears in the picture above taken with newborn Olivia in 2003.
2. Cottage cheese. Her early diet involved a lot of cottage cheese. I remember looking at this little blonde face covered with cottage cheese every time she ate.
3. We drove up at our Walnut St. house with her the first time, set her in the grass where she peed immediately. From that point on she was essentially potty trained.
4. She was truly kennel trained. The first two years of her life she slept in a kennel on the floor right next to my side of the bed. Her job was to wake me up.
5. She adored our first Pomeranian, Niki (Niki just died in 2007 at almost 18 years old) but Niki only tolerated Polly.
6. My other nickname for her was Double Dog. Because our only other dog at the time weighed about 5.5 pounds and then came Polly at a whopping 11 pounds.
7. A couple of months after she came to live with us, Polly broke a leg. I'll never forget her little pink cast. When it came off, the leg was atrophied--half the size of the other front leg.

I'll miss Polly. She was a good dog. I wish the decision had not been necessary.