Vegas (or Vay-goo) was adopted from an animal shelter in Chico, CA.  She was a quiet puppy with large paws, stored in a cage not much larger than she was.  We were told she was a boxer mix, but to this day we can't be certain (though we had our suspicions that she was part pitbull).  We decided to name her Vegas as a result of her alleged breed.  The pinnacle of boxing happens in Las Vegas, so our dog, too, would bear the name of the zenith of her kind.



Shortly after taking her home, she became gravely ill.  We would feed her rice boiled in low sodium chicken broth, softened dog food and would wrap her in warm towels straight from the dryer.  This went on for days.  Eventually she pulled through and grew from a small dog into 56lbs of energy, companionship, loyalty and love.  Every night she would rest her muzzle on the edge of the bed, with her eyes barely looking over, waiting to be invited to join us.



She would smile when we returned home and wag furiously, causing her entire hind quarters to sway with the momentum.  When, in the relatively rare circumstances that she would bark, we would tell her to be quiet, she wouldn't stop barking, but rather do so with a softer tone.  A whisper bark, if you will.  She would utter a displeased grunt at the perfect time, when those around her were speaking of matters that a dog would find disagreeable (i.e. vet visits).  She perked up and grew excited when her people would so much as spell the word food.



Two years ago, when we had our first child, Vegas took to our daughter as though she had birthed her herself.  Following us wherever we took her.  As our daughter began eating solid foods, Vegas learned the perks of staying close, slurping up stray grains of rice and other victims of gravity.



Vegas will be remembered fondly by all who came in contact with her.  She was a splendid and friendly dog with more personality than most humans.  She was our closest friend and will be missed greatly, both with pain and joy in our hearts.