Sophie -- January 9, 1991 - June 2, 2007

Yesterday, my beloved Dachshund, Sophie, passed away. She was 16. This is a picture of Mom and Sophie--not sure when taken. At least 2-3 years ago. I got Sophie on February 25, 1991 when she was 6 weeks old. I remember bringing her home to show Mom and Dad...Mom thought something was wrong with Sophie's eyes because she had those brown spots as eyebrows! I told her they were supposed to be that way. :-) Of course in this picture, her eyebrows are white. Mom and Dad took care of Sophie for me when I first got her until I moved back home from Bloomington. Then I lived there until 1994, so Sophie grew up with Mom and Dad. Mom housebroke her and trained her to stay in the yard and on the front porch. Sophie NEVER made a mess in the house until the last year or so when she was getting sick. I attribute that to Sophie being the best dog, but also to Mom's training. When I moved to Woodbridge, IL, Mom and Dad brought Sophie up one weekend after keeping her while I moved. It was just Sophie and me in Chicago and I couldn't have made it without her. She was the only thing that kept me afloat. She was my best buddy. After I came back from from Chicago in 1996, Mom and Dad took care of Sophie a lot. When I lived on T Street in Bedford, Dad would go over during the day and get her and take her to their house. I called them her "Grandparents" and she their "Granddog". Sometimes I would drop her off at "doggie day care" on my way to work and say I dropped her off at Grandma's. Mom would send me emails and say "Sophie's such a good doggie. She likes it here."
She was my dog, but kind of theirs, too. She was always over at their house.
In the past few years, Sophie started getting me up at night a lot, so sometimes I'd let her stay overnight at Mom and Dad's so I could get some rest. Over there, she would stay in her little crate and sleep all night. As a matter of fact, I was supposed to take her over there the night of their accident. Dad had brought her crate down from upstairs and it was sitting in the dining room ready for her. I would say I was taking Sophie over there for "Betty Boot Camp" and get her back on the right schedule. Susan came up with that phrase and we loved it. The last time she was over at their house was on January 9 of 2007--for her "birthday party." We always had cake and ice cream on her birthday.
I knew in October that Sophie would not be here too much longer. The vet said her kidneys were going and she already had congestive heart failure. I knew Christmas 2006 would be her last one. But I did not know that it would be Mom and Dad's last one, too. I always thought Sophie would go before Mom and Dad--that they would be here with me when the time came. But she didn't. I think she stayed around to help me through their deaths. She was here for me--one more time. For a long time she had not been sleeping with me under the covers. She would just lay on top. But after they died, she started getting under the covers and curling up next to me. I think she knew I needed her--I needed the warmth and comfort of her little body to help me fall asleep. So I think she stayed around to help me. But we are moving to their house on I Street pretty soon, and I was worried about moving her again. Even though she knew the house--she was pretty blind and deaf and would wonder a lot through the house. I thought it might really be hard on her to move at this stage. Plus, she had been getting worse the last few weeks. I did not want her to suffer, and I wanted to do the right thing when the time came. At 5:00 am, I called the vet and he said she was not suffering and was in and out of consciousness. So, I just let her go naturally. She was on the couch in her favorite spot with Susan and I by her side. Her little heart just finally gave out. She was fine at 5:30 pm on Friday night. By 6:55 am on Saturday morning, she was gone.

There will never be another Sophie. She was such a good, good dog. We had a strong bond. I could tell by the way she looked at me. She was my baby--the really special one that you only have once in a lifetime. I will miss her for the rest of my life.

Love,

Susie