Goodbye little friend.

Today ended twelve years of a special relationship.
She was 8 months old when I walked into the animal shelter that day in response to the call informing me that they had a dog like I was wanting.  She got so excited she trembled as I walked up to her cage.  Really, she looked like anything but what I was expecting.
The lady who was showing her to me explained.  "She was taken in by the vet in Fianna Hills, but before we could get her she got out and was on the run for a week or two.  When we got her back she was so full of cuckleburrs and matts that we just shaved her."
I looked in the eyes of the trembling, pitiful creature.  "Is she good with children?" I asked.
"We don't really know.  She belonged to an elderly couple that were moving and could not keep her.  She's had all her shots but she's not yet spayed."
I told her I'd like to bring my grand children down and check out how they got along and if it seemed good, I'd take her.  She said that would be fine and I turned to go.  The little shitzhu looked like her world had just fallen in.  I told her I would be back and went home to get the troups.
When I walked back in the door an hour or so later, she jumped and danced in her cage.  They took us to a little room with chairs and brought the dog in.  She promptly peed all over the floor and they gave us another room.  The little girl was beside herself with joy at all those kids.  Thus began her time as our doggie.  
I named her Phizgig from the movie 'The Dark Crystal' in faith.  It wasn't long until she sported a thick wavy brindle coat.  She travelled okay and was really good with everything but other dogs.  In fact, in all her life, there was only one other dog she tolerated.
Her death was not unexpected.  For a few months she has been having spells where she would lay in one spot for a whole day with her eyes glazed, barely breathing.  Then the next day, she would be up and about as normal.  Last winter, I brought her in some, but it became obvious that she had lost the ability to be house broke.  So she had to stay in the back room where the mess was easier to clean up.  We tried using training pads, but she would move them aside or hunt out a place where there was none.  I was glad when the weather warmed and I could feel good about putting her back out in the garage.
Yesterday she was up and about, but today she lay in one spot.  I went in to check on her often and found she could not get up at all.  She lay and breathed heavily and yipped constantly all day.  About 4 I texted Louis to tell him I thought she was dying.  So many times I've thought so before, but she would come back the next day.  Yet this felt different.  Late this afternoon, she just closed her eyes and stopped breathing.  Her quality of life was not good on the best days of late.  She could get down the side hill, but could not get up it again.  She had tummy problems frequently and sometimes she would foul herself.  About a week ago, she tried to go up the hill.  It tired her so that she just lay down beside a tree and would not get up.  Louis took her back to her bed in the garage and the next day, she was out and about again.
I will miss her.  I will remember her.  She was my little doggy.