Dear Sophie, my parents' little dog, passed away this week. As dogs go, Sophie wasn't a Lassie or a Rin Tin Tin or even a Sandy, but she was a sweetheart dog, always happy to go for a walk around the block, or to curl up in your lap on the sofa. In the old days when she used to jump three feet in the air to greet you, she was really a sight to see. Defiantly a lady with her high-maintenance curly white hair, mincing about the house like a little roving cotton ball, she was fond of napping on the back of the sofa, part cat, part toss pillow, and of following a sunbeam around a room. She will definitely leave a little fluffy space in our lives where a little furry friend should be, and we hope that in dog heaven the ham and processed cheese is abundant, the squirrels are few, and the snow is deep.
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