Well, I've put it off as long as I can. Too many friends wanting to know WTF about Echo. Echo has been my four legged alarm clock for I don't know how long. She would wake me before 5am without fail so when I woke up at 7am this last Saturday, I knew something was wrong. I went looking for her and found her on her bed in the computer room. I asked her if she wanted to go out and she just looked at me. My first thought was Paul was right...I shouldn't have let her play with the ball last night. But she so enjoyed playing fetch with me and tug with ZIggy and she asked so nicely I relented. So, I'm thinking she's sore due to her bad hips. I got her a pain pill that she took and then I offered her other pill wrapped in cheese. She's always been a little piglet...count your fingers when you give her cheese. She turned her head away and refused it. I fashioned a sling from a cloth grocery bag and helped her outside to pee. She couldn't support herself in the rear. I got her back inside and told Paul to call the vet while I jumped in the shower. We called the neighbor over to help load her into the truck then off we went. I had to have someone carry her inside for me and once on the floor she didn't move. She stayed up on her elbows, alert, listening for her friends and even gave a small tail wag. It was clear to everyone there she was not her usual happy, wiggly self. She had a temp of 105 or just under so her vet, Davy Harkins prescribed an antibiotic and said if she wasn't better on Monday, bring her back. Then they had her carried back out to the truck and home we went. Paul and I were able to help her out of the truck ourselves since her front end still worked fine. She could sit up, scoot around, make herself comfortable so we let her decide where she wanted to lie down and placed her water close by and gave her ice cubes...the only thing she wanted to eat. We had a restless Saturday night and managed to get her outside to pee again and let her lay out there with a fan on her as she was interested in watching over her backyard. When it was getting too warm I enlisted the neighbor again and he ended up carrying her into the house. She was still alert, still wanted to rest on her elbows rather than flat out. Her temp had dropped 1 degree and she even nipped me when I was trying to move her to a better spot. I barely felt it and said, "Hey, what was that about?" and she promptly showed me her teeth. She has never considered biting anyone but I took the hint. She was still refusing food and when it came time to fee Ziggy Sunday evening I heard her tags jingle and thought maybe she was finally showing signs of hunger. I came around the counter to ask her if she was ready to eat and found her laid out on her side gasping for breath, her eyes glazed and unfocused. I got down on the floor and held her, stroked her and told her I was sorry, so sorry. I told her I loved her and it was ok to go. She didn't have to stay with me. And in a matter of moments, she took her last breath and that beautiful heart under my hand ceased to beat. The light in her eyes was gone forever and I sobbed into her fur at the injustice of it. She didn't live long enough to turn grey. I knew we'd have to say goodbye sooner than planned due to her many health issues and crap hips but I always thought I'd get to buy her a box of toys to destroy and take her on car rides to places she could eat junk food that she wasn't allowed. We were cheated out of that but she saved me the trouble of deciding it was time to put her down. I called our vet, as I had a couple of times that day with progress reports and he was stunned, devastated and said he didn't see that coming. He wanted to do a necropsy to see how he failed her. Paul and I loaded her into the back of the truck, Ziggy up front and made the trip back to the El Dorado Animal Clinic where Dr. Davy met us. He and I carried her in on a stretcher and he asked if I wanted to wait for the result and I let him know I was going to be there during it. I don't know how to explain it but I didn't want her to be alone during this procedure and I wanted to know what killed my dog. So I held her in position, stroked her muzzle and talked to her as if this was an everyday thing. Unfortunately, Echo took her secret with her to the grave. She had so many issues, scars on her liver, spleen, lungs, an enlarged and rounded heart but no aneurysm as expected. Lots of things but even the sum of them all would not have caused the fever or her death. We think it must have been a stroke that did her in. Apparently it's a wonder she lived as long as she did but thanks to Dr. Davy and a worry-wart mom, Echo got good care and beat the odds for a dog that was doomed at conception. While Dr. Davy went to the lobby to talk with Paul, I took ZIggy back to see Echo one last time so that he knew she wasn't coming home. He sniffed her face, her muzzle and her ear, stepped back with a sigh and headed for the door. We left my baby to be cremated and went home to mourn. I will remember her beautiful face forever, her bright eyes, perked ears and a desire to make me happy. RIP Echo.