Dixie was my dog, a beautiful Belgian Malinois. She slept at my feet, took me for walks, loved the people I love and held a large portion of my heart.
I’m not sure how old she was since we didn’t know when we adopted her, but she lived with us for ten years.
Dixie loved to travel. From Maine to Florida to Colorado and Utah, Dixie hung her head out the window of the truck.
When she was diagnosed with bone cancer, I cried for a week. She crossed the rainbow bridge with me petting her head. It hurt, but I owed it to her to stand by those last moments.
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