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By Rusty Morris for The American Dachshund, June 1965
One Sunday in New York I was walking home from the subway when - in the light spilling from a shop window - I saw a little old lady leading - a white Dachshund!
The dog was walking slowly, smelling here and there, and she was just keeping him company. It was very nearly pure white, and obviously a Senior Citizen. I knelt, and he waddled over to smell my hand and allow me to pet his boney frame.
"He's over 16," the lady said, "and in perfect health. I wish my hearing and sight were as good as his! He's my life. When he goes, I don't want to stay around."
She smiled and turned away, leaving me standing there. I never saw them again. Surely they are gone now. Together I hope.
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1 comment:
What a sweet story! I can relate. I never want to be without a doxie again.
Katy
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