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When I was six years old a friend of mine got a beautiful female yorkshire terrier named Corkie.  My friend's mother did not have patience for Corkie so my mom offered to take her.  We thought Corkie was a silly name for her so we changed it to Missy.

Missy was full life and courage, she was so little but so mighty.  Missy pertected her family to the depth.  As a child my father beat me and Missy would do anything to protect me.  In the summer time I would take her out to the woods and sit out there with her all day because I felt so safe.

In 1996 we moved into a new house and Missy just loved it there.  Three weeks after living there Missy became critically ill.  My mom brought her to the vet several times and we were just told it was her gasteritis acting up.  As weeks went by Missy was losing weight agressively.  My mom came to me and told me she felt Missy was going to die that night, I just refuse to believe that.  I grabbed two pillows and placed them in the front basket on my bike and took her for a ride.  About an hour after arriving home my mom told me we were taking Missy to the emergency vet hospital.  When I woke up in the morning my mom gave me the news that Missy died from anti-freeze poisoning.  We found out later after her passing that the people who lived there before us spilt anti-freeze and never cleaned it up.  My Missy died two weeks before my sixteenth birthday.  I am twenty-six years old today and I still miss her so much my beautilful little girl.

 

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