I adopted my sweet Peewee when she was almost 12 years old. It didn't matter to me that she was already a senior. She was perfect. Quiet, already housetrained. All she wanted to do was be with me. She's the only dog I've had who would lay at my feet all day while I worked at my computer, content to hang out with me until it was time for dinner. Never pushy or demanding like most of my other Dachshunds.
I knew her time was getting short when I had to wake her to eat. It became more difficult for her to get around, stumbling and sometime falling over when she walked. She never complained. During her last couple of weeks, she got stuck under furniture and put herself into corners, unable to back out. She eventually lost interest in food, and then water. I hoped, like most of us do, that she would pass peacefully in her sleep, but she hung on.
On her last day, she didn't get out of her bed. I knew she was ready to cross, but needed my help. Even after the sedative kicked in, she continued to look up at me while I was crying, as if to say "I'm still here for you". I held her tightly and said "I know".
Rest in peace, sweet girl. You are forever in my heart.