For about fourteen years, Charlie has been in our life. Charlie was a brown and black purebred dachshund. He was very cute and eating was his favorite habit. He was large, and loved any type of food very much. He even ate pills, you did not have to hide them in his food!
Stupid, or loveable, I guess it's up to you. However. He was very loyal and loving. We got him as a present when my five-year-old brother passed away from Epilepsy in his sleep.  In 2008, when he was twelve, we noticed Charlie had a chip in his right foot toenail. (Back leg.) Charlie didn't seem to mind it, it didn't hurt or anything--so, naturally, we didn't think it was a big deal. However, as time went on we noticed it was getting bigger.
Bigger and bigger. We took him to a vet right away after we noticed it. They wanted to run tests. We let them, and we found out he had cancer in his foot.
They said he'd have about five months to live. Charlie was a brave dog. He went on about his days. Rain, sleet, snow or shine. He was outside, running about until the very last few months. Those months were horrible. He was limping, and he was slowly loosing control of his back legs.
Charlie walked, nevertheless. When he did suffer, we would carry him outside and in. I remember bathing him when he didn't reach the door in time and he got it all over himself. It's like dealing with a baby. Or, in this case, the elderly.

I watched him slowly lose feeling in all of his legs, and his tail. He was a vegetable, and cried in the night. We left the tv on for him. The worst part was, now, after it all, he didn't want to eat. We were confused. Puzzled. A few days after that, I returned home from school seeing my mother and sister crying. They took him to be put down. It's un-heard of in my family. We love our pets with a passion, and until then, nearly all died of old age. Never had this ever happened before. When we took him, he was still in his right mind, looking around, curious as to what was going on. It was his time though, he knew life was giving him hell these last few months and deserved some relief. He layed on the table and accepted it.

Despite the doctors word, Charlie lived until Jan. 2010.
Two years past expiration date, if you know what I mean. heart
ScarecrowCupcake ScarecrowCupcake
18-21, F
Jul 17, 2010