Mon Petit Rouge

I usually write something about whatever my kids are up to, but I recently recieved some bad news and I feel compelled to focus on that for this post.
Jason and I had been married about a month when we bought our first dog. I had gone to the local animal shelter with a friend when I first met the sweet little dachshund mix that would become my Phoebe. She was quiet and shy. Such a lady and so polite. I just couldn't get her out of my mind. Every pet I've had since then has been chosen based on the qualities she had. They have to have "Phoebe eyes." I don't know what had come along before us, as she was a very humble little girl, but I know she was probably overwhelmed by all the love we showered on her after that. Not to terribly long after Phoebe we decided to add another friend to the family and purchased our second dachshund from a local pet shop. He was the last of the puppies, completely alone in a dirty little pen. I had to take him home. He was so tiny and rode home sitting on the back of my neck under my hair! Precious! He is a red dachshund with bright brown eyes that just look right to your soul. As a child, I saw a tv show or movie (I can't remember which) where a girl had a pet fox that she named Mon Petit Rouge, or My Little Red in French. As soon as I saw him, I remembered that name so of course I had to use it. We call him Reggie for short. (I mean, what would the neighbors think? "Where are you Mon Petit Rouge?" Sounds to strange.) We were a happy little family.
Phoebe always played with Reggie only when we weren't looking. She was so funny. Every time we would look she would stop. When he was still very small, he could run up under the couch away from her. She was much to large to fit in the tight space, so she would sit and wait for him to return. One day when we came home, we found her stuck half way under the couch after chasing him there. I don't know if dogs can be embarrassed but I truly believe she was. She was so funny.
About 6 years ago, Phoebe went missing. We searched and searched, but could never find her. I still wonder about her to this day. Losing her was like losing a close friend. I'll never have the closure I need, but at least I know that while we had her she was loved.
Yesterday, we found out that Reggie has prostate cancer. Even with treatment, there is really not much hope that he will live very much longer. My little red is dying and there is nothing I can do about it. I know some people would think I'm crazy for being so upset about losing him, but he has been a part of my life for eleven years now. He is a friend and a companion. He's a family member. That he is a dog doesn't change that fact. I don't know how I'm going to watch him slowly fade away, that vibrant spirit leave his beautiful eyes. He is an ornery, fussy old man. He likes his peace and quiet. He loves to play with the other dogs when no one is looking (he just came through running and playing with my two other dogs until I looked at him and he went and sat on the couch). He absolutely loves bread and would do anything for it. He is a beggar and a digger. We will be at the dinner table and his head will pop up from time to time at different points of the table. He likes to dig and root around in the covers until he's found just the right spot, then he'll dig some more. He likes to sit on the top of the stairs so he can see out the window and bark at the neighbors. He loves barking at children, especially mine. He grunts and wines and groans to get attention and loves massages. He takes up all the room on a king sized bed even though he's a small dog. He makes his presence known. He is a king and a commander in his domain.
I'm going to miss everything about him.