In 1992, after FabGrandpa was injured in an auto accident, we were given this puppy. We named her Newt, after Newt Gingrich. (Can you see the resemblance?) She was a just a ball of white fur when she came to live with us, but she kept FabGrandpa entertained and happy during his long recovery. She was smart, and learned lots of tricks. Whenever she heard the sound of a bottle of beer being opened, she would run to get her bowl, and would dance on her hind legs with the bowl in her mouth, begging for a sip of beer.
Her life came to a very tragic end, though, as someone poisoned her. We did not get her to the vet in time to save her life. FabGrandpa buried her in our backyard and mourned her passing for days. Although she was with us for less than a year, she will never be forgotten.
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