Winter's Tiny Dog Tales: 100 Words of Grief, Courage and Pure Love

Dog love, distilled: 100-word reader epics, no fluff allowed.

Refresh date: December 22, 2021

Roxy, now deaf and blind, just turned nearly 19. She was my mom's dog; Mom hadn't wanted one, but on my push we went to meet her and it was instant fireworks. Roxy became Mom's 'peanut' and quietly gave her a reason to cling to health. Mom passed in February, and Roxy and I grieved shoulder to shoulder. I still hold her and swear I'm cradling a piece of Mama. That goofy, beaming 'smile' of hers never fails to crack mine.—Kerrie Larson

Her name says it all: Joie de Vivre

Boomer lights up like a firework for a midnight potty run, practically vibrates with glee on walks. When overseas family landed recently she hyperventilated with pure joy. What makes her infectious zest extra-special? She's 16, deaf and nearly blind. Humans everywhere could learn a thing or two: you get one life—what you make of it is entirely up to you.—Salomi Odendaal

Could it get worse? Working an event, I brought home two 3-month-old Chihuahuas to spare them the pound. My husband was so livid he walked eight miles home. Meanwhile three other dogs waited—one, ill with pancreatitis, puked on the floor and my ankle slipped, breaking/dislocating in three places and piling a $100k medical bill on. Husband out of work, living on my retirement already. He was forced to nurse us all—and fell head-over-heels for the new pups!—Sharlene Plescia

November 22, 2014, I adopted eight-year-old Mochi, a Japanese Chin, from a rescue. 'Healthy,' they said—but I saw something was wrong. Six weeks later: bilateral laryngeal collapse and a tracheostomy. We got four staggering years together, thick with breathing treatments, meds and round-the-clock care—and she thrived. She loved feasts, toys, car rides and patio lounging. Mochi left for heaven September 4, 2018, but she's tattooed on my heart.—Mary Clare Houghes

'My little cleft paw cutie,' I call him. Alfie came home as a 3-week-old foster with his mama and nine siblings. Spoiler: he never left. He's physiologically one of a kind, which is exactly why adopters passed him by. His front left leg runs short, its paw bearing three toes, two fused. Alfie moves with the most endearing hobble and adores the world—it adores him back. He radiates joy and mischief. We could all borrow a page from Alfie: different is delicious, so live your loudest, most authentic self.—Victoria Lily Shaffer

Freya hit her deadline at two shelters before landing with us—reactive, a known dog-fighter. Then a rescue pup arrived. The day they met, Freya adopted Cosmo outright. She'd hoard kibble in her bowl for him, shred cardboard boxes into play-chews for him, let him win races and wrestling bouts, and taught him doggie manners. We'll forever remember how our tough girl Freya melted into a gentle, patient dog-mama to little Cosmo.—Jennifer Jones

Button is a sassy four-pound Yorkie who loves dog, cat and human alike. But the miracle: she saved me from a house fire. I work from home with Button on my lap; she naps till I drop my headset. One day she planted on me whining, barking, clawing at the computer. I was annoyed—until I spotted sparks smoking where the power cord met the laptop. She stopped a blaze before it started. She's a miracle.—Marci Watts

'I sobbed with her head on my shoulder the whole way home.'

Piper, my two-year-old Pom, is my whole heart. She flew from Arkansas to Florida on an all-day saga, stalled four hours in Texas by bad weather. At last her crate slid down the chute. Love at first sight, no contest. I bawled with her head on my shoulder the entire ride home—pure love in a tiny white furry 'package.' We've never spent a night apart since.—Deborah Gillert

Merlin, the Migraine-Sensing Wizard

Merlin is my 10-year-old blue merle Chihuahua, my ride-or-die since weaning. He can sense a migraine brewing and 'herds' me to my meds. I used to get three to four crippling migraines yearly—now I've been attack-free for years! He's my hero.—Fawn Frazer

Once there was a Chihuahua so tiny, taken from his mother far too soon. I found him at a shelter weighing barely two pounds and literally begged to adopt him. On pickup day the staff said, 'Well, since you alone kept asking and asking, he was clearly meant for you!' We've been living happily ever after ever since!—Jean Baldridge Yates

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