Winnie
My dog died last week. Her name was Winnie. She was a rednosed pitbull who would have had those province newspaper writers hanging their heads in shame for branding pitbulls as vicious timebombs. I found Winnie at the Squamish pound nearly three years ago. She'd been rescued from her abusive owner and left there with her litter of ten pups. Although I am the last person to advocate the pitbull breed in general, her gentle and sweet disposition shone through her beautiful amber eyes. Never once did she betray this gentle sweetness. She loved children and babies, cats, kittens and rabbits and showed the most patience with other dogs that I have ever seen. Never once did she growl or snap at another dog, even when that dog was trying to provoke a fight. She was certainly the kindest, most gentle dog I've ever seen, and as a professional dog caregiver I've seen hundreds of dogs. She also had other admirable traits too: Once she figured out what she wanted, she would make it perfectly clear by vocalizing like an off key opera singer, or she would just go get it herself. If people could possess as many of the admirable traits their dogs so easily espouse the world would be a much kinder, happier place.
We lost our Winniegirl to a sudden onset of epilepsy. It took us by shock and in spite of our best efforts she went into a seizure that we couldn't get her out of. I had to make the decision to let her die peacefully with the help of an injection at the hands of the kind local vet. It was the most horrible scene I have ever witnessed. My solace is that she is no longer in pain and we will meet again in a better place where she is now free. Still I miss her.
Lynne Fedorick