My husband and I never had kids--we had Puff (or maybe she had us). We didn't go anywhere where Puff was not welcomed. She loved the snow, four wheeling, riding anywhere, and food. She vacationed in Ocean City and the Outer Banks. She climbed Sugarloaf Mountain and loved hanging out at the local drag strip. When her grandfather was nearing the end, she visited him and the other paitents at the nursing home. She loved to eat, but was especially fond of salads and seafood. You could put a steak on the floor and she would wait for you to feed it to her. Puff had a tumor removed from her breast in December 1999. She healed well but in August, was showing signs of distress. On September 14, our beloved Puffer could no longer get to her feet. We took her to Doc's, but there wasn't anything more to do. She was put to sleep in the truck where she loved to ride between her father and I. Her collar hangs from his rear view mirror. Puff is buried at her grandmother's under the apple tree. She would have been 13 in December. I cry every day. She touched so many lives and is sadly missed. She was especially a 'Daddy's Girl' and she let me know it whenever my husband got home. But she was my best friend and we will always remember her. Peace.