Little SweetPea was borne of show-dog-quality parents, the fourth in a litter of four (unheard of with her little mama). She weighed only 2.4 OUNCES, and had to be bottle-fed every two hours around the clock. She survived, and began to thrive, but had some rather unusual problems: her vagina was tilted horizontally, which required surgery to prevent the frequent UTI’s, and when she was spayed, the vet realized she also had “some little boy-parts.” I always said it was a good thing she was so very cute — she didn’t have much else going for her. She never learned to play with a toy or ball until she was 4 years old, but then she learned to recognize which toy I asked for when she heard it (as in “bring me your monkey”). She learned two “tricks”: I could get her to “growl” on command and “speak” on command.
She was very protective, and had no idea of her size — she even challenged a neighbor-dog whose head was bigger than she was. By the age of 14, she had developed severe kidney failure and was entered into eternal rest in June of 2016. To this day, I still vary between great memories and mourning her passing. In the first picture, she has taken over the big bed belonging to one of my other dogs; in the second picture, she is riding in the front of the four-wheeler on the way to our daily hike in the woods, which she LOVED; and the third picture is our sad farewell.–Rosamond Prince
