I got you when you were about 8 weeks old, you only weighed a pound and fit in my sweater pocket. I took you everywhere with me. You chewed everything in sight during my horrible marriage. Once you & I were on our own, we camped together, played endlessly, met my Dave, became a family with him and still went everywhere together. You slept under my arm like a teddy bear, I never imagined the day would come when you didn't have a tennis ball in your mouth, begging me to throw it. You were almost 15, when on 11/21/98 I held you in my arms while you slipped away. You had cancer, your once bouncy tail drug the ground, you grew distant and I knew you were ready. I wasn't; you aren't here to kiss away my tears. All I have are a thousand pictures and wonderful happy memories of my lovable mutt, Micki Moo. I hope your tail is bouncing as you chase tennis balls at the Rainbow Bridge. I love you, Dad, Casey and Bear miss you too. Love, Mommy