Frenchie was a wounded and troubled soul when she came here. Her legs wobbled and she was feeble. She was in a home for 9 years where not only do I think she had ceased to be loved but worse, she had become spurned and despised because of how greatly she needed affection. In our home she gained strength quickly and it did not take long at all for her to respond to our gentle care. After about a year when she was fully secure in our love and devotion to her we stopped seeing the ghosts behind her eyes and finally saw her blossom. Her rear legs never did stop wobbling like a bowstring as she climbed stairs though, a sight that always made me forget to breathe.

I loved her deeply but I never felt she was my "heart" dog. I could not have picked her over one of the others - Knight, or Kimba, or SurfRider - to say that of all she was my favorite. But she was unique in a most special way. Frenchie was daddy's little girl. That was the place she claimed and it was her most wonderful gift to us.

Two months have gone. I only now know the final cost of her gift. The love of a daddy's little girl cost me my heart.

I love you so much Frenchie and miss your sweet kisses. How you must fly! Free now to soar the heavens.

~ stavros