Miss Lucy Fair, C.K.C., was born in Dallas, Texas on March 15, 2002. Her dam was Ch. Lady Cookie, and her sire was Ch. Lord Gizmo. Lucy was a beautiful blond female chihuahua that was given to us as a gift by a very close friend. She weighed 5.5 ounces at birth and attained 9 pounds as an adult.
She was intelligent, faithful, and loved to play. She was tolerant of children to a point, and when she had had enough, Lucy would mutter and grumble as she would duck under the nearest bed for peace and quiet.
She loved playing with her 'babies' as her little stuffed toys were called. After play, she would carefully place them in her little nest that she would make after scratching and arranging the blanket on the bed to her satisfaction.
Lucy was all these things and more. In 2008, when my husband was out of town for a sporting event, I was home alone with our two small children, and my disabled brother. It was late and on a weekend, and as a treat to the children I had allowed them to stay up while I was busy in the office. The house was quiet, and no traffic could be heard going by. We all received the scare of our lives, for Lucy suddenly roared out with a bark of ferociousness. We were all used to her shrill yapping, but Lucy had never before used a full-throated bark before. It sounded as if another dog entirely was voicing its rage.
Before I could have time to rise from my chair, my oldest son Bran, who was ten at the time, bolted from the office. The door slammed shut as he threw every ounce of his 80 pounds against it. I rushed to the living room and saw my courageous son fighting to keep the door shut. I quickly joined him and reset the locks firmly that time. Bran later told me when he got to the living room, he saw Lucy standing toe to toe with a stranger who had cracked open the door and was looking in. Apparently, the deadbolt had not engaged entirely, and someone was quietly breaking into the house that only Lucy could hear.
Lucy raced through the house, from the front to the back and peering through every window she could reach as I called the police. If it had not been for this sweet little baby alerting and protecting her family, and my brave son knowing in his heart that Lucy was telling us something and acting as quickly as he did: I, my children and my brother probably would not be here today.
Lucy was my friend, my companion, and our little heroine.
At the end of December 2009, she went off her food. Thinking she was going through another episode of being picky, I tempted her with every brand of food available. She started to eat after I would personally cook her favorite meats. In early January, she stopped eating entirely - nothing appealed to her. She began to pass blood in her urine and we rushed her to the veterinarian. After hours of tests, the diagnosis was in. Lucy was in irreversible kidney failure. The vet assured us that this happens often without any unusual symptoms until the ailment is advanced.
Lucy was euthanized on January 5, 2010 at 12:00 PM with Dr. Cantrell presiding. She was with us 6 years. Lucy was the best, the bravest and most fearless of little ones.
She was intelligent, faithful, and loved to play. She was tolerant of children to a point, and when she had had enough, Lucy would mutter and grumble as she would duck under the nearest bed for peace and quiet.
She loved playing with her 'babies' as her little stuffed toys were called. After play, she would carefully place them in her little nest that she would make after scratching and arranging the blanket on the bed to her satisfaction.
Lucy was all these things and more. In 2008, when my husband was out of town for a sporting event, I was home alone with our two small children, and my disabled brother. It was late and on a weekend, and as a treat to the children I had allowed them to stay up while I was busy in the office. The house was quiet, and no traffic could be heard going by. We all received the scare of our lives, for Lucy suddenly roared out with a bark of ferociousness. We were all used to her shrill yapping, but Lucy had never before used a full-throated bark before. It sounded as if another dog entirely was voicing its rage.
Before I could have time to rise from my chair, my oldest son Bran, who was ten at the time, bolted from the office. The door slammed shut as he threw every ounce of his 80 pounds against it. I rushed to the living room and saw my courageous son fighting to keep the door shut. I quickly joined him and reset the locks firmly that time. Bran later told me when he got to the living room, he saw Lucy standing toe to toe with a stranger who had cracked open the door and was looking in. Apparently, the deadbolt had not engaged entirely, and someone was quietly breaking into the house that only Lucy could hear.
Lucy raced through the house, from the front to the back and peering through every window she could reach as I called the police. If it had not been for this sweet little baby alerting and protecting her family, and my brave son knowing in his heart that Lucy was telling us something and acting as quickly as he did: I, my children and my brother probably would not be here today.
Lucy was my friend, my companion, and our little heroine.
At the end of December 2009, she went off her food. Thinking she was going through another episode of being picky, I tempted her with every brand of food available. She started to eat after I would personally cook her favorite meats. In early January, she stopped eating entirely - nothing appealed to her. She began to pass blood in her urine and we rushed her to the veterinarian. After hours of tests, the diagnosis was in. Lucy was in irreversible kidney failure. The vet assured us that this happens often without any unusual symptoms until the ailment is advanced.
Lucy was euthanized on January 5, 2010 at 12:00 PM with Dr. Cantrell presiding. She was with us 6 years. Lucy was the best, the bravest and most fearless of little ones.
Miss Lucy Fair, C.K.C., was born in Dallas, Texas on March 15, 2002. Her dam was Ch. Lady Cookie, and her sire was Ch. Lord Gizmo. Lucy was a beautiful blond female chihuahua that was given to us as a gift by a very close friend. She weighed 5.5 ounces at birth and attained 9 pounds as an adult.
She was intelligent, faithful, and loved to play. She was tolerant of children to a point, and when she had had enough, Lucy would mutter and grumble as she would duck under the nearest bed for peace and quiet.
She loved playing with her 'babies' as her little stuffed toys were called. After play, she would carefully place them in her little nest that she would make after scratching and arranging the blanket on the bed to her satisfaction.
Lucy was all these things and more. In 2008, when my husband was out of town for a sporting event, I was home alone with our two small children, and my disabled brother. It was late and on a weekend, and as a treat to the children I had allowed them to stay up while I was busy in the office. The house was quiet, and no traffic could be heard going by. We all received the scare of our lives, for Lucy suddenly roared out with a bark of ferociousness. We were all used to her shrill yapping, but Lucy had never before used a full-throated bark before. It sounded as if another dog entirely was voicing its rage.
Before I could have time to rise from my chair, my oldest son Bran, who was ten at the time, bolted from the office. The door slammed shut as he threw every ounce of his 80 pounds against it. I rushed to the living room and saw my courageous son fighting to keep the door shut. I quickly joined him and reset the locks firmly that time. Bran later told me when he got to the living room, he saw Lucy standing toe to toe with a stranger who had cracked open the door and was looking in. Apparently, the deadbolt had not engaged entirely, and someone was quietly breaking into the house that only Lucy could hear.
Lucy raced through the house, from the front to the back and peering through every window she could reach as I called the police. If it had not been for this sweet little baby alerting and protecting her family, and my brave son knowing in his heart that Lucy was telling us something and acting as quickly as he did: I, my children and my brother probably would not be here today.
Lucy was my friend, my companion, and our little heroine.
At the end of December 2009, she went off her food. Thinking she was going through another episode of being picky, I tempted her with every brand of food available. She started to eat after I would personally cook her favorite meats. In early January, she stopped eating entirely - nothing appealed to her. She began to pass blood in her urine and we rushed her to the veterinarian. After hours of tests, the diagnosis was in. Lucy was in irreversible kidney failure. The vet assured us that this happens often without any unusual symptoms until the ailment is advanced.
Lucy was euthanized on January 5, 2010 at 12:00 PM with Dr. Cantrell presiding. She was with us 6 years. Lucy was the best, the bravest and most fearless of little ones.
She was intelligent, faithful, and loved to play. She was tolerant of children to a point, and when she had had enough, Lucy would mutter and grumble as she would duck under the nearest bed for peace and quiet.
She loved playing with her 'babies' as her little stuffed toys were called. After play, she would carefully place them in her little nest that she would make after scratching and arranging the blanket on the bed to her satisfaction.
Lucy was all these things and more. In 2008, when my husband was out of town for a sporting event, I was home alone with our two small children, and my disabled brother. It was late and on a weekend, and as a treat to the children I had allowed them to stay up while I was busy in the office. The house was quiet, and no traffic could be heard going by. We all received the scare of our lives, for Lucy suddenly roared out with a bark of ferociousness. We were all used to her shrill yapping, but Lucy had never before used a full-throated bark before. It sounded as if another dog entirely was voicing its rage.
Before I could have time to rise from my chair, my oldest son Bran, who was ten at the time, bolted from the office. The door slammed shut as he threw every ounce of his 80 pounds against it. I rushed to the living room and saw my courageous son fighting to keep the door shut. I quickly joined him and reset the locks firmly that time. Bran later told me when he got to the living room, he saw Lucy standing toe to toe with a stranger who had cracked open the door and was looking in. Apparently, the deadbolt had not engaged entirely, and someone was quietly breaking into the house that only Lucy could hear.
Lucy raced through the house, from the front to the back and peering through every window she could reach as I called the police. If it had not been for this sweet little baby alerting and protecting her family, and my brave son knowing in his heart that Lucy was telling us something and acting as quickly as he did: I, my children and my brother probably would not be here today.
Lucy was my friend, my companion, and our little heroine.
At the end of December 2009, she went off her food. Thinking she was going through another episode of being picky, I tempted her with every brand of food available. She started to eat after I would personally cook her favorite meats. In early January, she stopped eating entirely - nothing appealed to her. She began to pass blood in her urine and we rushed her to the veterinarian. After hours of tests, the diagnosis was in. Lucy was in irreversible kidney failure. The vet assured us that this happens often without any unusual symptoms until the ailment is advanced.
Lucy was euthanized on January 5, 2010 at 12:00 PM with Dr. Cantrell presiding. She was with us 6 years. Lucy was the best, the bravest and most fearless of little ones.
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