Agnes Rosebud
dogs, Dorkies (Yorkshire Terrriers)
Sweet little Agnes was killed by a car last week, on her 2nd birthday. I miss her terribly.
Yorkies are a fiesty little breed, and often think that they are big dogs. Well, not this sprite. She always knew she was a teensy thing and wanted to be near me to watch out for her. I let her down by not making sure she was safe, we were in the driveway, carrying stuff to the garage and she ran down the drive way, and right out in front of a car.

Here she is on last year's birthday.

A few months ago we had four little furry kiddos, Bookie was put down in the fall, due to canine dementia. Sparkle's kidney's failed while Sugarwings was in the hospital after surgery for her broken arm.
But those two had led very full, very happy lives. Tiny Ages Rosebud was just at the beginning of hers.
This picture is when she was about three weeks old.
There is something extra special about raising a puppy from the day they were born. I've had lots of dogs in my life, and know they give boundless love, whether they are a full grown stray, or a rambunctious baby when you get them. But I've had two dogs that were born here and that makes such a strong bond. Agnes never knew any other home and I was her "person" from the moment she could waddle out of her nest and into my hands.
Being everything to a pet is a big responsibility, we had a deal that I didn't keep my end of. She gave me her full and complete heart, and I was supposed to keep her safe and treasured for a lifetime.
She was certainly treasured, but I failed to keep her safe. We have 10 acres and I tend to let the dogs run around outside with me, never alone, but I do let them out when I'm in the yard and let them visit their neighbor, Holden, who Agnes had a big crush on.

She'd never had a leash on in her whole two years. I always knew she wouldn't leave, that she and Twinkle would not run off, they'd visit their friend behind our house, they'd sniff for bunnies, they'd joyfully run back to me to tell me with bright eyes and pouncing little bodies, all about where they'd been.
I took for granted that they'd both always come back.
I shouldn't have. Since a stranger picked up Twinkle a couple years back and she was gone for over a week till returned, I vowed to be a better pet owner and I really tried to always keep my eye on them, and they did not ever go outside without me. If kids left doors or gates open and the dogs were loose, I'd throw a little hissy fit and tell them to be careful.

But I spend a lot of time outdoors, and the dogs always go with me. Never with a leash. And this time, she dashed out to the street. I didn't protect her.







































































