This is Christy in her final days (Story Below):




My mom had been at a fruit stand buying peaches and Christy jumped in her car. My mom kept telling the people how much she loved her and how beautiful she was. A few months later, they called a mutual friend and told them to tell my mom that Christy had eaten a bunch of their chickens. My mom had one hour to pick her up or the farmer was going to shoot her. We ran and got her. We didn't have any dog food and it was late at night, so we fed her spaghetti. It was before kindergarten, so I was 4 or 5 years old. I can remember walking her. She was a natural sleddog that had never been on a leash. I can remember her running down the street, dragging me on my belly because I wouldn't let her go. I loved her so much that I didn't want to lose her.

I still remember the day when she had her first seizure. I can remember exactly what I was wearing, what she looked like, where she was lying...everything. I was about 16. We picked her up and put her in the back of the truck. I rode in the back with her about an hour away to the vet. It was a scary realization that my dog was getting old. After that, the seizures just kept getting more and more frequent. By the time we put her down they were daily. We put Christy down when I was about 20 years old. Christy was already 1-2 years old when we got her, so she was probably about 17 years old when we put her down.

p.s. She howled "I love you" perfect.