Peanut's Eulogy

I don’t know why she came into my life to be gone one year later.
I fell in love with her when I held her and looked into her brown eyes.  My other dogs eyes all look black.  Peanut’s were brown  - the color of peanut butter.
When she wanted love, she nestled and rolled around your chin into your neck that she couldn’t get any closer to you no matter how she tried.
Her ears stood at attention and she heard every little noise.  Her ears laid back when she was comfortable, safe, and warm.  That’s how her ears were when you held her in your arms.  That’s how her ears were when she died in my arms.
She didn’t have any pain when she passed.  I keep tryin to tell myself that to feel better.  I only ever had one dog at a time growing up.  I never watched a pack of dogs until I started my “collection” of dogs.  The dynamic of the pack changes with each one.  It’s amazing to watch.  The oldest dog, Zelda, is an 11-year-old rat terrier; the largest dog is Keisha, a 9-year-old keishound; Tia was the other half the chihuahua pair.  She's 3 and had a few years to run the pack. 
Peanut came into this house as a 6-week-old puppy who decided she was going to rule the pack; and did until the day she died one year later. 
No one took her dog toy from her unless they wanted a good tug of war battle.  She’d win a lot.  Her little body was strong as she tugged at her beloved sock toy or whatever it was at that moment that was worth all the fight you had to give for it.
When she’d lose, she’d just walk away and go get another one…a better one, at that time.  The other dog would lose interest in their prize in no time because of course they then wanted what Peanut had.
Peanut had it all, as a Chihuahua comes…she had confidence, strength, beauty (by the beholder), and love.  She wasn’t the brightest of the pack.  A poop-eater in the beginning.  She’d be the “blonde” of the group – no offense meant – but my little peanut butter was a little naïve, silly, rambunctious, and leaped way before ever thinking about the consequences.
Tia still can’t get on the bed without using steps…she was never able to jump that high.  Peanut jumped from a puppy and even though she jumped into the mattress more than she ever made it up, she did this until the day she was able to just spring like a little kangaroo and make it up and then bark at the other dogs on the floor as if mocking them and saying “see, I can do it and I’M allowed to sleep on the bed!!!” 
She loved to be chased by all of the dogs.  She would run at them and bark and then run under the couch.  The dogs played a fun game of whack a mole…she would keep popping out of different spots from under the couch and the other ones tried to guess where’d she come out next.  It was allowing that game that ended up being her demise..that’s where she hid what she thought was a treat.  The motrin.  I’m sure the other dogs saw it but they knew enough that it wasn’t food.  Peanut didn’t.
Now, Tia keeps barking at me and running to the back door.  I can’t explain to her that Peanut is NOT still outside.  So I have to keep opening the door – now that only leads to where my baby’s grave is and then she runs around and then runs back up on the porch barking again.  She’s asking me where she is.  I only console her by distracting her and playing with her and I hope she understands.  I said the words..which hurt coming out..but I told her that Peanut was with Jesus now and Gram Irene is going to watch her up there.  Gram loved chihuahuas and I know that's where she is. 
I keep praying for that.
I keep praying for the day that the guilt of her death goes away.
I keep praying for the tears to stop. 
God bless my little Peanut.  Rest in peace baby.