This is a story of an amazing dog who arouse from the ashes of diversity. Her name was Willow, the name of a strong, tall and proud tree; all the characteristics of my beloved dog.
Willow came to us from the boxer rescue program in Florida. As she walked through our home we could tell she had endured a rough life. We later found out that she was the mother at a puppie mill in Miami, where she was left for dead on I-95. Full of tics and fleas seperating each one of her toes and weighing a wopping 38 pounds on a 82 pound frame she was rescued. When she arrived at our home she was cleaned up and all tics and fleas were eliminated, but she was still extremely underweight.
We took her in and brought her back to life and spent 6 wonderful years with her.
One day I walked outside to feed her and began to call her name and recieved no response. I nervously walked to the side of our house and witnessed her struggle to pick herself of the ground. That night Willow died at an emergency animal hospital with a tumor on her hip.
Willow was my best friend and nearly 2 weeks after her death I think of her with both a smile and a tear.