I hadn't had my own puppy in 9 years. My loving partner found a shih-tzu that needed to be adopted for me. I had had a shih-tzu before and she died of cancer, and I had always wanted another one, so I jumped for joy when I met him. He was brown and white with a little black around his tail. His original owner named him Frankie and he was a Frankie, Frankster and a Frand-n-beans, we couldn't change his name, it fit him. He loved to be in my arms from the moment I adopted him. He'd bark at all hours of the night to go outside to potty, I have to say that it got rather crazy, missing sleep like a new mother would. He got along with my partner's 3 dogs wonderfully. He loved to play with her service dog. Bigger dogs didn't scare him. He loved the outside. He'd roll in leaves and need to be brushed out daily. He had a favorite blankie and toy. He loved to go to my grandma's and play with her dog. Then the worst thing happened, on December 12, 2008, I will never forget that date. I had taken my last final for the semester, I had forgotten a gift for a dean at the school, so I drove home to get it. My partner said she had left two of the dogs outside and Frankie instead of bringing them in as we normally do when we leave. I got home and he was just sleeping by the shed, I called his name and went over and pet his head, not knowing it was the last time I'd see him alive. I thought about taking him with me to school to show him off but didn't. I should have. When my partner got home she found him in the neighbor's backyard. Somehow he got over there and the neighbor's dog killed him. She called me screaming and saying "Frankie's dead, Shooter killed Frankie, I'm sorry, I'm sorry" over and over again, I couldn't understand anything but "Frankie's dead" so her brother got on the phone and told me what she said. I came home to find him in her arms, passed away, he looked peaceful, there was blood on one side but I don't know where it was coming from, she wouldn't let me see. I dropped to my knees, pet his head, talked to him, kissed his little black nose and cried. They had dug a grave for him already, wanted to wait for me to get home to say goodbye to my baby. As they placed my baby in his grave, the eternal home for his body, I cried and talked to him, rubbed his head and said goodbye. I still don't know how or why or when he died, I hope he felt no pain. We think he just wanted to play with their dog, and if so, he died doing what he loved, playing. Our neighbor's wanted to put their dog down because of this but we said no, he was probably trying to play too, he'd never been mean and it didn't seem right, I hope we did the right thing. I think Frankster will agree. They have offered to get me another puppy when I am ready. All I know right now is that I cry still, I have his favorite toys and blankie my grandma gave him, and we are making a headstone for him. He was only a couple months old and I had only had him for two months but he had my heart. My partner still blames herself, keeps saying that she wants Frankie back, and apologizing. It was an accident, in my eyes at least. I want Frankie back too, but he is up there with Booboo(my other shih-tzu) and Princess(my cat I grew up with). I'll see them eventually. Frankie is playing his heart out up there somewhere, doing what he loves. God I miss him. I keep seeing his still body in my partner's arms, and I still see him playing with my grandma's dog.