Hello Readers,
This is Kim, a guest contributor to Robin's Rural Rides. Both of us have been really saddened by the loss of our dear Chihuahua, Pixie, two weeks ago today. As Robin said, "There was an enormous amount of character, loyalty, and affection in that little body of hers. We are really going to miss her."
We wanted to capture some of our happy memories of Pixie over the past three years, and there were many. Here is what we came up with.
Pixie came to us on April 2, 2010. She had been found as a
stray on the streets of Worcester in February. She went through Worcester
Animal Control, the Worcester Animal Rescue League, and then Great Dog Rescue New England, who asked us
to foster her. By the time we got her medical issues sorted out, we couldn't give her up.
She had three surgeries the first year with us: spaying,
tooth extraction, and eye removal. The latter was a tough decision but was so
right, as it ended her pain and she adjusted beautifully. After those surgeries,
she was in good health, although we still cared for her like a baby and spoiled
her rotten. In the spring of 2013 she started suffering from IBD, which daily
Metronidazole miraculously cleared up. Her last week she was slowing down, but
her death was unexpected and sudden.
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| Cutest one-eyed dog |
Pixie lived life to the fullest right up to her final day.
She died on July 7, 2013 of congestive heart failure. Her clay paw print is
buried next to our crab apple tree under a white azalea bush we planted in her memory.
Pixie was full of life and personality. She greeted us with
furious tail wagging when we came home, and waited until we acknowledged her
and petted her before she went back to her spot. She loved to come on errands, and followed me around the house to make sure she wasn't missing anything.
She had a furious little bark and afterwards made little
motions with her mouth like she was adjusting it back into normal position. She
always barked at our dog walker, Amy, even after she’d been taking care of
Pixie for months and years.
We sometimes described her as ornery since she didn't like
strangers. During her past, she must have had trouble with a tall man wearing a
baseball cap, as she could be quite aggressive towards that type. She once lunged
and bit a plumber matching that description on his way out. (Fortunately, she
did no serious damage.) After that we learned to keep her separated from service
men visiting the house. However, she accepted many of our friends and relatives
by sitting in their laps on the sofa.
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| Mt. Kearsarge 2011 |
She participated in hikes and walks in the woods with us and
our other dogs. She gave us a scare the first year by taking the wrong trail
and getting lost in Pisgah State park – she could be a little too independent! Sometimes
she would go on ahead (especially on the way home). But more often, she would
trail behind, sniffing, and we would have to call her to come trotting
back. She could put on quite a show of
speed when she wanted to. Her longest hikes were 6 miles, up Mounts Percival/Morgan
in New Hampshire and Mount Ascutney in Vermont – both steep, rocky climbs. Her
only reservation was crossing any stream or watery spot, so we had to pick her
up and carry her over. Otherwise, she loved the woods and the outdoors like any
dog.
We got an Agility set for Christmas one year. During the months I had the weave poles set up in the basement, Pixie was just as proficient on them, if not more so, than the other dogs!
She made an endearing little grunting, throaty sound when
she settled herself down.
She shed like a year-round blizzard going on in our house.
She loved her heated dog bed, especially in winter. She also
sought out any spots where sunbeams came through our windows.
Pixie loved when Robin and I were close together on the sofa
or in bed, and insisted on snuggling between us. She showed her contentment by
licking our hands, arms, and legs. She
was quite a “licker.” A true lap dog, she spent many, many hours in Robin’s lap
while he worked at his computer.
She was a faithful sleeping companion. In the winter she
would sleep cuddled up against our knees under the blankets. In the summer, she
would sleep right next to us or on top of us. She spent the winter nights of 2010-11 with Miranda, who lived here during her last year of vet school.
Pix, as we often called her, impressed many in our circle of friends, who told us of their affection for her, most notably Miranda's friends Jenni and Sarah. She did not win over everyone, but those who were won over often told us how much they adored Pixie.
In the morning when Pixie woke up,
she would come lie on my stomach and gaze into my eyes, and I would massage her
and she would half close her eye and stay there for as long as I would pet her. Her ears would go horizontal and she reminded me of Yoda. She always welcomed a tummy rub too.
Pix was part of the group that drove to Memphis and back
in 2012. On long car rides she would stay in my lap with her head in the crook
of my arm, wrapped in a blanket, and snooze the journey away.
She loved coffee with cream and sugar. She had a special bark for coffee, and would
come into my lap and try to get at it. I usually gave her the last few sips
from the cup.
During her last two springs and summers, she discovered
joyriding with her head out the car window. She loved this with a passion. Thanks to the stern warnings of Cousin
Jeff, she was harnessed and tethered while she did this. She would follow me
around in the warmer seasons, hoping for a car ride each day. During her last
few months she got in a lot of joyriding, including on her way to the vet the
day she died. She especially enjoyed the trips to Kimball’s and getting a
spoonful of ice cream.
Pixie was ingrained into the fabric of our lives and was a
daily bright spot. She loved us, and we loved her, with all our hearts.
Thanks for all the love, our little Pix.
