Pantaloni is in Doggy Heaven.

Pantaloni

Age 11, December 21, 1995 - November 11, 2007

Pantaloni was an angel far before she left this earth. There was so much love in that little body.

Nickname: Angel Puppy, Pantis, Pranti,

No amount of time with Pantaloni could have ever been enough. I wish I could have had her in my life until the day I die.

Anyone that met Pantaloni loved her. In her last 2 weeks, the vet tech kept telling my mom how much "love she had in her body." She said she was a particularly special dog, and we knew it. I hand-picked her from a litter across the street when I was 10. I just knew she was it for me!

My most wonderful memory of her...well, I can't even think about it without crying. On weekends, I'd sleep in, and Pantaloni would be sleeping in her little bed next to the computer desk in our living room. I would come down the stairs, and she would see me at the top...I'd start saying her name very slowly..."Pantaloooooni..." She'd immediately start squinting and her little, curved tail would start slowly wagging. "Oh Pantalooooooni!" And she'd get more squinty and more waggy until she just couldn't possibly contain herself, and then she'd run up to me with all the love in her little body. It was a joyous reunion every time.

When I was a teenager, I'd give her baths. She was not a fan, but I did everything I could to make her feel safe. I'd sing to her the entire time. Sometimes it was the Pantaloni Chorus (sung to the melody of Handel's Hallelujah Chorus), or some other tunes I can't identify by name (all with the lyrics "Pantaloni, Pantaloni, Pantaloni Pantaloni Pantaloni" and even some songs me and my mom wrote for her specifically.

I loved to watch her eat things. She was so delicate, gentle, and thorough. One year, for Christmas, we bought her a basket of rawhides made out of rawhide. The rawhide string used to bind the basket together was her favorite part.

Sometimes we'd suddenly say, "Pantaloni!" just to watch her head cock and her ears go up.

She had a great tummy. I'd sit on the ground with me legs out in front of me, slightly bent, and she'd lie on her back in between my legs. I'd just rub her tummy and tell her she was the best dog in the whole world.

Sometimes, she'd get in these really feisty moods. She'd start rolling around on her back and growling and looking unbelievably cute. Then she'd just stop and hang out on her back, frozen, waiting to be noticed. I, of course, was noticing her the whole time, but I just wanted to watch.

She was never mean or selfish. Even when our other dog, Abby, decided to be a bitch and terrorize Pantaloni so she could eat her food. She never stopped loving Abby.

When I'd come home, there she'd be, waiting for me at the gate next to the garage. She could hardly contain herself. Panting, smiling, wagging her curved tail. Sometimes I'd start howling. She'd bravely throw her head back and howl with me. These howling sessions could sometimes go on for 5 minutes.

I have a picture of me lying with Pantaloni in the grass when I was 16. It was a beautiful day, and I spooned my little puppy and rubbed her tummy. I have this picture framed.

Our parrot still calls out "Pantaloni!" and it's more reassuring than painful at this point.