by Jane Tatum
December 1998 was the beginning of a whirlwind of life in my home which was cut too short on December 15, 2000. It began with the ongoing search for a dog to replace Rags, a mixed breed terrier who was the love of my life. Rags had died of cancer in May of that year, and my cousin Kent, who is also my veterinarian, had been looking for another dog for me since that time. Kent called and said that he had located a small dog "similar" to Rags and he would send her over with his parents, who were in his office at the time. Mika's Shanamarie was a toy fox terrier, a short haired breed which bore no resemblance at all to Rags, and I think somehow that must have been something which was exactly the thing I needed. According to the registration papers Kent sent with her, she was born June 17, 1998, so she was about 6 months old when she became mine. She was about two pounds when she first came here, and "maxed out" two years later at almost five pounds. Little did I know that my heart would be won by that little creature in that crate that day! She was the tiniest little thing I ever saw, and from the moment our eyes met it was love at first sight! She was so small that she couldn't jump on the couch for a few days, so she would stand and put her tiny feet on someone to be picked up and she wanted to stay as close to her humans (which meant whomever she saw in front of her, as she loved EVERYONE she met) as possible. Soon, though, she found that she could fly, and she seemed to thrive on leaping from place to place. My furniture became her launch pad, as she jumped from couch to chair and back, just seeming to enjoy the freedom in flying. Shana had experienced something in her first six months that was a life-changing event. It seems that somehow she had swallowed some rat poison, fortunately not enough to kill her, but enough to change the clotting ability in her blood. At the time Kent spayed her, she suffered a hemorrhage, and spent extra time in the hospital. I learned to warn the veterinarian at any time of her having tests that she was prone to bleed freely, and that made me extra cautious about her escapades. Shana was so lively that she was never still a second for that first year she was in my life. She loved everyone, and everything, and experienced new joys every time she saw people. I loved taking her to visit elderly relatives, to the nursing home, and especially to our riverfront property, where she could run freely. My little girl LOVED to run, and ultimately that cost me her life. She was visiting my aunt and uncle, as their large yard was a place where she could run freely without fear of attack from the dogs which run so freely through my neighborhood. She saw a deer across the road and we think was running to greet it. She hit a car--the car didn't hit her, as there wasn't a mark on her beautiful little body. I know that she died in the middle of a happy day, as she was never happier than when she was running freely out in their yard . I know that it was an unavoidable happening, but her presence in my life leaves a HUGE HUGE hole, and I will miss this precious little girl for the rest of my days.