I don't know what I would do if I didn't have my Trixie.

Trixie is not my wife:  my wife has been dead for over 30 years; she was only fifty when she died.  She had heart disease real bad; there isn't a day where I don't think of her or miss her.  Trixie is my dog.  A tiny little West Highland Terrier.  She is six years old and still has much spit and spirit inside that tiny little body of hers.  She can bring a smile to even the most crotchety of people.

I know.  I was one of them.  I was as crotchety as they come.  Nothing seemed to crack my tough, old man exterior.  I was angry at the world; I find any excuse to blame others for my problems, especially after Josephine (my wife) died. 

I thought I had nothing to live for; I wanted nothing more than to stick my head inside the oven, turn on the gas, and go that way.

I was also ill myself:  had rheumatoid arthritis that required me to walk on crutches and was often in severe pain.  My body was all crippled and twisted up; it was difficult to do even the simplest things without my joints screaming obscenities at me.  I had many surgeries over the years.  It didn't seem to be doing much good.  I was in as much pain now than I was prior to having all the surgeries.

Trying to care for a sick wife when I faced my own health problems was not easy, especially since I had to do a lot of it on my own.  Our kids, grown and moved out, lived in different parts of the country, so it wasn't like they could drop everything and halp their poor old sick daddy care for mamma.

When Josephine died, I thought I would go insane.  Then a friend brought me this tiny little creature, and she's turned my life on its ear.  When I felt I had nothing to live for, my life suddenly had purpose.  I found reasons to smile and to face my problems head on.  It was all because of Trixie.

Trixie could do no wrong in my eyes.  She would do all sorts of entertaining tricks to keep me in stitches, and she had such a sweet, exciteable personality.  She knew when I needed her, and wheenever I was in pain or sad, she would come cuddle in my lap and lick my tears away.  She was a godsend.

Whenever I go to my doctor's appointments or to the store, Trixie comes along for the ride.  My neighbor Gus will drive me, seeing it's so hard for me to do it myself, and it's doubly difficult trying to get in and out of a car or any low-set vehicle without getting stuck.  Everyone who sees Trixie soon becomes her friend; she has never known a stranger.  Trixie loves everybody, even complete strangers. 

I have never known Trixie to bark out of anger or malice; the worst she could do to someone is lick them to death or wind herself around their legs like a cat, or dance on her hind legs.  LOL

I just hope that God allows me to have Trixie for a long time to come.  She is my saviour, my world, and when there was once sadness and despair, my life is now bright with color and full of hope.  All I have to say is this:  thank God for my little white Trixie-Girl!  She is certainly something special!!