Those who have never had a dog can never understand the emotional attachment one develops to these four-legged family members.

I bought Pancho, my little chihuahua, when he was 6 weeks old.  The breeder would have kept him as a prize-winning show dog if he (the puppy that is) were not a monorchid, having only one descended testicle.

Pancho barely weighed one pound at the time, and his weight never exceeded four or five pounds.

I am an entertainer, a circus performer and comedian and travel extensively.  I had to go to Europe with the Harlem Globetrotters as their halftime entertainment, so Pancho stayed with his “grandparents” (my mom and dad) for several months.  My dad was able to teach him a number of tricks that even impressed some of my friends who were professional dog trainers.

When Pancho was 13 years old, he was not feeling well and we took him to the veterinarian in Pennsylvania.  I was holding Pancho in my arms when the doctor announced that Pancho would need surgery for severe constipation. It was as if Pancho heard him and panicked.  He looked me in the eyes and died of a heart attack in my arms.  This was way back in 1985 and I still dream that Pancho is alive and playing with me.  All I have left of him is his collar and a framed snapshot on the wall…and some fond memories.

— Pat from Mission, TX