I found a little scruffy dog at my parents backyard in 1997.  He was underweight and lost alot of his fur.  I immediately picked him up, gave him a bath and fell in love.  At that time I was living with my parents, but dating a man that I really loved.  He already had a dog and I told him to take this one too.  He said, "Oh no, If I'm taking him, you're coming too."  (That is how we started to live together.)  He is now my husband.  I named the little dog Murphy and he never left my side.  My husband Al, always claimed... "That little shit..(Murphy).

Al's dog, the big rottweiller "Hercules" took alot of crap off of Murphy. I was diagnosed with cancer in 2001.  I had been sick long before I was diagnosed.  I really believe both of the dogs love have really kept me going.

     Murphy died in my arms.  I miss him so much.  I know he was old, ( the vet claims at least 16 years)  but I keep crying.