But at about 4 AM, our last dog Milou passed away. I don't know. When Spitzi died, it was horrible and I cried for days because he was the dog-of-dogs, the great character that cannot be replaced, the one that I still miss. Now, Milou, well he was also a little character. He often was a little bitch, growling and not liking children and having bad eyes and teeth due to the incestuous nature of the Yorkshire Terrier breed. He was a little rat, sneaking over to the neighbours and raping their poodle.
He could however also be a nice dog, one that wants to sit on your lap, one that squeezes tightly against your body in order not to be cold, one that 'smiles' when you get home, one that races you on the beach, one that sleeps on newly washed clothes, one that will be missed, dearly, as well.