Oliver

I was 15, my sister 13, when my mom finally let us get more dogs. We decided on a Shih tzu, Fred, and a Shih Poo, Oliver.

The first time I ever drove in the snow was to take Oliver to the vet. He ate Christmas potpourri and we all thought he was throwing up blood.

He would spend hours in the backyard, trying to catch Voles and Squirrels. The day he caught a squirrel, he pranced around like king of the yard.

When I would go home to visit my mom, she put him to bed with me after she got up. I woke up to him tapping me with his paw until I rubbed his ears, and eventually scratched his belly.

He had so many nicknames. Omis, Odie Burger, The Tank, Deedle-Doo.

5 years ago he was diagnosed with diabetes. Two shots a day and a very serious weight loss plan.

4 days ago his kidneys started to fail. He wouldn't eat or drink. Today my mom decided he was suffering too much and put him down. She called me sobbing, saying he is with Mickey and Charlie in heaven. I hope he finds Willie and Mylo too. Who knew dog deaths came in threes?

We will miss you, sweet boy.