My Mom's dachshund Prissie Sue died this morning. She was 15 or 16 years old and had been in poor health lately. She was a chocolate miniature dachshund that my step-father Ray bought a year or two after he married my Mom.
I remember when they brought her home for the first time. I was living at home again after a few years in college, and the first few nights she slept in the bed with me. She was so small that she fit in the palm of my hand, and a lot of times she'd end up rolling off the mattress and sleeping in a loop of the sheet that was hanging off the bed. She also had a crooked tail and was the runt of the litter, so they got her for a bargain.
She loved to howl along with anyone that would start it for her. Back then we also had three outside dogs in the carport, and usually if I got her started howling the chows out there would all start howling along as well. Prissie was also the alpha dog. The chows would all roll over when she came out because she was always aggressive with them.
Prissie was dachshund #4 in my life. The first two were Lady and Heidi, who were full size dachshunds that my parents bought before I was born. Heidi was actually Lady's puppy. The third one was Turkey, who was old when we got him after someone dumped him out on our road. Our Annie dog in Nashville is #5. I loved them all and Prissie Sue will definitely be missed.