Annie
A donation was made in memory of Annie by the Daleys on Sep 17, 2026.
"Annie" -- a Papillon/Terrier mix -- came into our family about 13 years ago. I say "our family" because I already had a Chiweenie named "Fritzie" and had just lost another dog to old age. I'm a two-dog mama so was hoping to find a good match to complete our 3-creature household. Annie was the one. Annie and Fritzie and I enjoyed many years together.....lots of walks, treats, cuddling, even a couple of trips to the Olympic Peninsula and Orcas Island.
We lost Fritzie a couple of years ago. He was 17 and had gone blind and was clearly in pain. It was sad, but Annie and I kept each other going. I learned last October that she had a cancerous tumor in her bladder and that she wasn't expected to live much longer. But here we were, in September 2026, and she was still plugging along, although the tumor was growing and she was clearly losing stamina and declining.
On September 9th, while we were walking in the neighborhood, we were attacked by a large snarling dog who pulled its owner into the street face down, pulled its leash out of the owner's hand, and came barreling over to us, snarling, barking and with murder in its eyes. The dog knocked me down, breaking five ribs so I was incapacitated, then attacked little Annie over and over again as its owner tried but failed to regain control. I was in agony because I couldn't get up to rescue her, and at one point the other dog had Annie in its mouth and she was crying out in terror and looking directly at me. A neighbor finally intervened and separated the dogs, but it was too late. Annie was covered in bites and puncture wounds, and she was terrified. Another neighbor took her to the emergency vet where they spent a couple of hours cleaning wounds, inserting drains, and stitching her up. Annie spent the next five days barely able to walk, on heavy pain meds and antibiotics, and clearly still very uncomfortable. She succumbed to her wounds five days later, as we had to euthanize her because she was not healing, and because prolonging her life with painful wound treatment and dying tissue would be horrific for her.
I miss her so much. I keep waiting to hear her toenails clicking on the wood floor as she returns from a drink in her water bowl, or how she would stand on the sofa staring at me every night at 9 pm waiting for her nightly chew bone. I miss her snuggling up against my leg, always wanting to be close to me when she napped. And I miss how she would leap from the sofa and bark voraciously at whatever animal -- dog, horse, zebra, monkey -- ran across the television screen, as if they could hear her!
I plan to acquire another dog soon because I believe that I'm good at caring for dogs, and there are way too many dogs that need love and care. But Annie will always have a special place in my heart.
We lost Fritzie a couple of years ago. He was 17 and had gone blind and was clearly in pain. It was sad, but Annie and I kept each other going. I learned last October that she had a cancerous tumor in her bladder and that she wasn't expected to live much longer. But here we were, in September 2026, and she was still plugging along, although the tumor was growing and she was clearly losing stamina and declining.
On September 9th, while we were walking in the neighborhood, we were attacked by a large snarling dog who pulled its owner into the street face down, pulled its leash out of the owner's hand, and came barreling over to us, snarling, barking and with murder in its eyes. The dog knocked me down, breaking five ribs so I was incapacitated, then attacked little Annie over and over again as its owner tried but failed to regain control. I was in agony because I couldn't get up to rescue her, and at one point the other dog had Annie in its mouth and she was crying out in terror and looking directly at me. A neighbor finally intervened and separated the dogs, but it was too late. Annie was covered in bites and puncture wounds, and she was terrified. Another neighbor took her to the emergency vet where they spent a couple of hours cleaning wounds, inserting drains, and stitching her up. Annie spent the next five days barely able to walk, on heavy pain meds and antibiotics, and clearly still very uncomfortable. She succumbed to her wounds five days later, as we had to euthanize her because she was not healing, and because prolonging her life with painful wound treatment and dying tissue would be horrific for her.
I miss her so much. I keep waiting to hear her toenails clicking on the wood floor as she returns from a drink in her water bowl, or how she would stand on the sofa staring at me every night at 9 pm waiting for her nightly chew bone. I miss her snuggling up against my leg, always wanting to be close to me when she napped. And I miss how she would leap from the sofa and bark voraciously at whatever animal -- dog, horse, zebra, monkey -- ran across the television screen, as if they could hear her!
I plan to acquire another dog soon because I believe that I'm good at caring for dogs, and there are way too many dogs that need love and care. But Annie will always have a special place in my heart.
