I realized yesterday that maybe it hurts more still to really think about little Hannah and to feel all these feelings about the love we shared and how very much I miss her than it does to blame myself for what I did or didn't do for her.

I am trying hard to bring up specific memories and they are coming to me, but slowly. I know I have thousands of special memories of that precious one with whom I spent the last sixteen years of our lives.

So I want to tell you all what a precious, cute, sweet little bouncy girl she was. She was always friendly to all people and to most dogs and cats too. She would just bravely march right up to everyone, big dogs too. She was not afraid, that little one. But she was a mommy's girl. It was always mommy she looked for, always mommy's lap and arms she wanted to be held in. My girl.

She was always smiling, that little Hannah. (She had the cutest little underbite!). She was so tiny, little tiny long legs, tall, delicate and thin. Beautiful blue-black hair that turned mostly siver in her older years. Totally silver under her chin. Such beautiful hair she had. Soft, silky hair, like a Yorkie, but not as long. And oh, those eyes -- those BRIGHT, BRIGHT beautiful eyes, ever bright though she had cataracts for quite some time. Kind, loving, beseeching eyes. Oh, she stole your heart with those eyes!

Wonderful, gentle Hannah hugs. She would wrap her head and neck around my neck and squeeze tightly. And oh those tiny, soft, gentle Hannah kisses. So, so sweet. I miss those Hannah hugs and kisses. I miss my Hannah so.

Oh how she loved to be with mommy. Except when we went outside and then she seriously wanted to investigate and sniff out and mark her territory (which she so daintily did, with one little leg lifted like a little boy dog -- funny).

She was a smart one, my little Hannah Anna Girl. She was born that way!

She was a swift little thing in her younger days. A "fancy dancer," that little girl. I used to call her my little beauty queen.

She used to love to play ball. You'd throw the ball (she could even catch it in her tiny little mouth w/o it bouncing on the floor first!) and she would dash to get it. She would bring it back right away too, but she wouldn't give it to you. That was part of the game. You had to wrestle it away from her and then she would oh so eagerly wait to do it again and again. We played "sock" later when the ball got too much for her. She loved socks and she would fight if you tried to take the sock away from her. I had more than one friend whose socks she stole and hid!!

My Hannah girl, my best girl, my best friend for all her life, for the past 16-years of my life. My world will never be the same without you. I am waiting for you to come to me in a dream. I know you will when the time is right. I know you've made lots of new good friends at the Rainbow Bridge. I know you have, because I know their parents. I love you Hannah Bo. I miss you so.

Here is a picture Hannah would be very proud of. The young wild little girl Hannah, I probably about 6 years old at the time: WELL, I HAVE TRIED AND TRIED ALL MORNING to get the picture on here, but it just won't work. I'll have to work on it some more and post it later. I so wanted to post it with this, but I want more to make this post about this sweet little girl now.

beautifully written Marcia..I could see her with my mind's eye! you captured her with this essay.
She does look like part yorkie.
Aren't you glad you had one another!! She had the perfect owner in you. You had the perfect friend in her.
For me it is comforting to think my Ginger sought me out of this big world. He "found" me. I am betting your Hannah did the same--she chose you somehow. We like to think we do the chosing. it is more than likely the other way around.
Lately when I feel griefstruck (and cry and cry and cry) I think "Ginger would not want me to be this upset". Remorseful tears are so different from lonely tears. Remorseful tears are the ones where we go over old ground about our actions. As you say in the beginning of this post the most painful part is the separation....plain and simple!
For myself I am working on concentrating on "all the good". Hope you will do the same, in honor of your sweet girl

Hi Marcia!
Just when I thought I'd turn in for the night, I came & looked because I saw your name.................

I'm crying all over again..... And, that's okay -- because, it helps me to remember, helps me to remember how special our furbabies were (& are)...................

I loved A "fancy dancer"..........your lil' beauty queen.

Like I had said before, her little picture, she just makes me smile!!!!

She was an absolute beauty, the perfect beautiful daughter, for the perfect mommy......

She'll always love you Marcia...............And, you will be re-united again....

I am sooooooooooo sure, that, "she will come to you"; like you said, "when the time is right........"
They do, and in their own beautiful way....

God Bless you..
Love, Denise

Thanks so much again, Gingerspal and Denise. Yes, she was something else, that little tiny Hannah. She was a "Yorkie-Poo," half poodle and half Yorkie. She weighed at most 8 pounds, but usually around 7 pounds -- A little bundle of pure love.

Thanks Denise for mentioning that you came to read the post when you saw my name. That means a lot to me. I'm glad we made you smile and remember good things!

I was so blessed to have Hannah, and for almost 16-years! So blessed. And yes, I remember that she did choose me. I had gone with my brother and his wife to a lady's house who raised Yorkies, Poodles, etc. They were getting a dog for themselves, and I just went along with them. But there with lots of other little babies was this one tiny, tiny (about 1 pound, and she fit in the palm of my hand) precious little bitty furball with the most pleading, bright eyes. She so eagerly reached out to me with those eyes and that little body and begged to be picked up and loved. I knew right when I saw her, I would not leave her there. My brother and sister-in-law got her for me as a very early Christmas present because that was in the summer of 1988.

The other day I was going through some books I have, and I found Hannah's little "Puppy" book that I bought when I got her -- all chewed around the edges and corners with tiny little teeth marks on it! That made me laugh too. What a fine, wonderful, little girl she was. Good, good memories, but they still make me cry too. But at least, those aren't the remorseful tears, they are the lonely tears. And, of course, Gingerspal, they too would be heartbroken to see any tears, especially since they're not here with us to help us get over any and all of our sadness, as they always used to do. It is the good memories that will help us get where we need to be. I am still working through it all too, and am slowly trying to accept those things that I cannot change, trying to move forward to be a better person and do what I can to make this a better world. I was so lucky to have Hannah. We were all so lucky to have shared this special love.
Thanks again, ya'll.
Marcia

I can just picture baby one-pound Hannah, looking at you with those eyes!!! She had you for all her 16 earthly years---what a blessing. A lucky day for both of you, the day you found each other.

And don't forget that you'll be reunited. A love that strong is forever.