This little dog rescued from the street had been abused and neglected and it took a full year to earn his trust. Once he decided I was "his person" his devotion was absolute. He wasn't an easy dog - he had quirks and fears and a flea allergy, too. Those were more than balanced by a personality that was bigger than his size.
Doodah was injured more than once when he challenged my German Shepherd (35 lbs against 120 or so is not good odds but Doodah didn't get that). He herded the cats and tolerated them to a point. He never learned to fetch. That's not quite right - he learned to fetch but "keep away" was his favorite game.
In the past year Doodah's age has been showing. He lost most of his sight and most of his hearing - yet even yesterday was able to follow me through the house. We couldn't stop the pain any more and we couldn't make him younger. I didn't care that he was old or needed help - but I couldn't watch him suffer. I've had to walk this road before but this one was really hard.
Poor Gracie (my pit) is inconsolable today. She watched me leave with Doodah and come home without him and she's been looking for him ever since. I'll probably adjust to the loss quicker than she will.