Dolly followed my dad home one spring night in 1994. She came into the playroom where I was sleeping on the floor and licked my face. My sister and I begged mom to let us keep her, and since her paws were small and my mom thought she would always be a little doggy she said we could. Well she didn't stay little. But we still kept her and spoiled her. Every time I would get a new pillow I'd give her my old one. Sneak her tasty human food when I thought no one was looking, normally they were. Now, fourteen years later, the spot in my room where her bed was is just empty space. When I eat she isn't there whining because she wants some. When I walk in my door she doesn't jump up with her tail wagging to come give me kisses and tell me hello. She was always my best friend, closest confidant, little sister, and royal pain. I had her for most of my life, and now for the first time in my life, when my family leaves me home alone...I'm truly alone. She is no longer here with me. I know she is in heaven, playing with Jake (who Andrew, Liz and I married...dogs don't like clothes that much) and the neighbors cat who she terrorized constantly. In dog years she was 14, in human she was 103. She lived a long life, and loved us all so much. She will be missed by everyone who she got to share a little of that precious love.