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Soleil-Lucky Latin, 8/5/2007 to 11/5/2018; Sol, Soleil Ole O, Bubba, Bubba Brains, Goofus, Dork Brain Doofus Face, Spinner. My goofy, silly boy. Always attentive to me, including a few years working as a service dog. Even after retirement he could always be relied on to help me in the kitchen. Basically the command was "Oops" or one of several curse words. His response to these was even quicker than before retirement. That is likely because rather than being asked to retrieve, he was finally allowed to consume the dropped items. When he wanted attention he would play bow & spin several times in a row. If my response wasn't quick enough, he'd then use his "inside voice". Lather, rinse, repeat. He was our Spinner. He did this for fun and also to get attention. When he was in a really good mood he would spin dozens of times in a row. He was never good at spinning in one place and the others dogs learned to get the heck out of the way or risk becoming Sol's dance floor. Sol had a very mild amount of separation anxiety which he expressed by shredding whatever paper object came to mouth and leaving the shreds in the doorway. Even though he would often be asked to clean up after himself by retrieving those shreds. For a long time I would leave a napkin on a side table by my chair to serve as a decoy. This ensured nothing of any importance was shredded. After a while this was no longer needed, but I still often left one out of habit & those were usually shredded. I think by that point he considered it part of his job. Silly guy. He was a very happy, healthy boy, an 11 yo who still acted like 7, except when he was behaving like a puppy, right up until the last two weeks of life. The demon hemangiosarcoma claimed him. Goodbye, my sweet, silly Sol. Kira-3/2005 to 11/16/2018; She was a rescue, a foster never meant to stay in my home. The circumstances of her rescue were unfortunate as she had a loving owner who fell on very hard times. The aftermath of all that contributed to a rather complicated situation which led to Kira getting stranded at with us for so long that I just gave up attempting to find her a new home. After a year, I quit calling her a foster. She was mine for good. Kira was half Kazakh Tazi, half Greyhound X Border Collie, part of a litter bred for falconry. She got along with dogs, cats, birds, bunnies, or any animal that didn't try to bite. She had a houndish obsession with scents. She also had an unusual type of noise phobia. She was terrified of all loud noises except gunfire. She had storm phobia which may have been an offshoot of her noise phobia or perhaps it was the other way round. Just the sound of rain would scare her. However, when things were calm & quiet she was a happy-go-lucky goofball. Her intense love of playing ball must have come from her Border Collie grandparent. For some reason she chose rolling onto her back and scooching around like an upside down sidewinder as a way to get our attention. It always worked & never failed to make us laugh.. Kira was our only dog who loved going camping. (The others just tolerated it.) She enjoyed hiking, but most loved trotting along next to my recumbent trike, stopping again & again & again to sniff things, peeing a gazillion times so all the other camp dogs would know she'd passed by. Though she had some renal insufficiency for years, it was severe spinal arthritis that finally caught up with her. Life became a burden to her, rather than a blessing. Letting her go was one of the hardest decisions I've ever had to make. Goodbye, Kira, our lovable, happy + anxious, mixed bag of a hound with a truly gentle soul. Farewell, my friends, my loves. We will miss you terribly and always remember your wonderful, funny, goofy personalities. We were blessed to have you in our lives.