Little Bit

In the 1990’s I lived in Phenix City, AL, right across the Chattahoochie River from Columbus, GA. One day a story ran in the paper about an old widower who used to take his pet Chihuahua, Little Bit, everywhere he went. The old man would walk the town with his elbow bent, and the little dog resting on his right forearm. After the man’s wife died, the dog was his only companion, since they had had no children.
Now, I’m sketchy on the details, but, suffice it to say, one day the old man passed away. For the next few days, this dog was inconsolable. It was every bit of 23 years old, blind, deaf, and had no teeth. All the dog would do was lie there and cry. Eventually, the dog was euthanized. At the funeral, anyone who walked up to the casket to view the old man’s body also saw the body of Little Bit, nestled on the right forearm of his friend. They were laid to rest together that way.
Not only does the heart of a master break over the loss of a dog, but vice versa as well.

Jay from Missouri