This time last year Susan's dog was dying.
The dog wasn't popular outside of her immediate family but that didn't seem to bother her. She had an enviable confidence and never sought extraneous approval.
She carried herself with feminine grace even though she wasn't considered classically pretty and most folks referred to her as him.
She made no apologies for her few shortcomings, she had as much right as anyone to lie on the floor and fart.
When she was permanently banished from Susan's bed she didn't waste time whining, she showed her adaptability by jumping into then next available bed down the hall.
Susan really misses warming her feet under that formerly alive dog at the end of her bed.