She was a mutt, like the rest of us. Mostly Spitz. Beautiful white fur, a former stray my parents adopted maybe 8-9 years ago. She was scared of everyone at first, but finally learned to trust her family. When I moved here to help my parents, she adopted me.

A year ago this month, my mother died of Alzheimer's after declining for years and years. My father died a couple of months ago after a very long hospitalization.

Winky had once had a voracious appetite. My father fed her from the table, which is always a bad idea. While he was in the hospital, I spent either days or nights with him, and felt guilty for leaving Winks at home alone, so I cooked chicken, dog biscuits, ground beef (which she usually preferred raw), noodles, even fish fillets.

For the last couple of months she began losing her appetite as well as weight. I went back to cooking for her, but finally she just stopped eating. She began spending most of her time in her basket. Took her to the vet. Tests revealed she had cancer.

I miss her terribly.

It's been a year of lingering deaths. I hope it's finally over.