It was love at first sight. I adopted Tutu in 1998, when my daughter was very young. We saw her, a beautiful beige Pomeranian, and instantly wanted her. She had so much class and dignity. Even as a puppy, she was always so refined and mature. She was patient and kind. She let anyone pet her, and never once tried to bite anyone. She was not an excessive barker, and she was the smartest dog I had ever seen. She loved me...unconditionally. She weighed only 8 pounds, but she would do anything for me. In her last years, she lost her sight, hearing, sense of smell, and I suspect most of her mental capacity. After finding her in a puddle, scared and crying out, unable to stand up, I knew it was time. I hated that I had to do it. I wanted her to go in her sleep peacefully. But every day there was a new calamity. She would fall in her food bowl, or get stuck in her bed. Sometimes she just didn't know how to get out of a corner. I tried to do whatever I could to make her last days comfortable and good, and I figured as long as she continued to eat, sleep and have normal bodily functions (which she did), I would keep her alive. But I was wrong. Her quality of life had dropped to the point where I no longer saw Tutu. Her life no longer had any dignity. I saw a sad shell of a dog, struggling to find her food, slipping on her water, crying out in fear or pain every few minutes (no matter how much I tried to help her). I know in my heart I did the right thing, but I miss her terribly, and I wish I could hold her again. I know I will see her again. I am counting on it. I love you Tutu...FOREVER.