Two little white socks

The first thing I noticed was the big red bow around her neck.  She was waddling up and down on her short legs, scanning the people with her squinted eyes for The One.
 
I stood on tip-toe to see over the heads of the people in front of me. Trying to catch another glimpse of the tiny pink tongue sticking out between a forest of whiskers.
 
Our eyes made contact.  It was like a staring contest, but neither of us could look away.
 
I slowly made my way through the crowd and stuck my finger through the wire that made up the cage.  That tiny pink tongue licked it.
 
At first, I thought it was due to the midsummer heat, but then I realised my heart melted, and all resistance crumbled away under the loving gaze of this little creature that would fit in the palm of my hand.
 
That night I marvelled in the aroma of puppy breath on my pillow, and my life changed forever.
 
In the 12 years that followed, the two of us shared many precious moments, but the most prescious was when I held you close to my heart one last time.  You took one last breath as tears were streaming down my cheeks. Never will those tiny white paws pit-a-pat through the house again.
 
In loving memory of Chaussettes (18.02.1999 - 23.12.2010)