My mother rescued Abigail, who had been tied with a chain in the woods--eating bark and dirt to survive--from an uncaring owner who wanted to get rid of her. The vet guessed she was a Yorkie-poo, but after living with my mother for a while, a better name for Abby was a "Porkie."
My husband and I inherited Abigail after my mother became very ill. My hubby wasn't a small dog lover, but this little diva very quickly captured his heart by getting on his lap, raising her paw, and presenting her tummy, as if to say, "Hey, start rubbing, buddy!"
After she slimmed down to six pounds, Abigail was even more full of life and spunk. She loved to eat, hog the bed, get under the covers, and snore like a lumberjack. She would take on anyone or anything! Lovable, spoiled, demanding, and always entertaining, she became the love of our lives. My husband and I married later in life and had no children together, so Abby was our baby girl.
She passed October 2008 (we think she was sixteen or so) and we were, and continue to be, devastated. She was a one of a kind.
Norwalk, CT
