Dear Taffy,


I didn’t want you–or at least I didn’t know I did. One evening, my then husband came home and told me we needed to take a ride. I got in the car and we drove to this little pet shop in town. There sat a tiny cramped cage with six puppies in it. The owner took all of you out of the cage and put you all on the floor. The others wandered around the shop, but you walked right up to me and stared me right in the eyes. You were so tiny and adorable; a little four-pound ball of white fur. You looked way too young to be away from your mother. When I picked you up, you were covered in fleas. The owner said you were all from the same litter, bred through a fence. You couldn’t have looked more different than the others. I was told your mommy was a Pekingese and your daddy was a Dachshund. But I didn’t really care what you were. You were mine. I pulled out my credit card and took you home.

Ten years and ten pounds later, you are the smartest, sweetest and most loving little angel. I didn’t know it then, but the day I took that ride was the luckiest day of my life. Yeah, it’s true. I didn’t want you, and that’s hard to admit or even imagine now all these years later. I know I’ll lose you someday, and it will be the most excruciating day of my life. But for now, I will continue to enjoy every minute with you for as long as we have left. I wrote you this letter to tell you that you are definitely loved and wanted, that just the sight of you at the end of the day makes everything all better, and that you are the love of my life.


The luckiest mama

Breed: Dachshund/Pekingese mix

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