Hurty.

When I was just a few weeks shy of turning 9 years old, my parents told me I could have a cat. Being the animal advocate my mother is, we went to the shelter to find my new companion. There weren't any kittens there ready for adoption, and while I begged and pleaded for one of the full grown cats, my parents told me to be patient (which was good, because it later resulted in the adoption of Nelle from a litter one of our neighbors had, and she was easily my best friend until she died). While we were there, though, we saw a little blond cocker spaniel puppy, just six months old, looking adorably up at us, begging for us to take her home. It was impossible to turn away from her, so we brought her home. We found out she was a cocker spaniel/dachshund mix, which would make her a "docker." As a result, she was given the name "Levi."

Levi was put to sleep earlier this week.

Everyone says this, and it's so cliche, but she was one of the best dogs in the world. She had a paint brush tail and snow boot feet, with a little tuft of hair on top of her head that could be styled into a mohawk. I was reading "Chicken Soup for the Pet Lover's Soul" and there was a story about a little boy whose dog had been put to sleep. His parents weren't sure how he was going to handle it, and one of them said out loud, "It's a shame dogs live lives so much shorter than their human companions. I wonder why God did that." The little boy thought for a second and said, "Well, God sends us so we can learn how to be good and love everyone. Dogs already know that when they get here, so they don't have to stay as long."

For Levi, that was definitely the case.