Yesterday, the smallest and waggliest member of the Jacobs family, Ginger, died in her sleep. She was a very special little dog and my favourite little old lady (apart from Grandma). Ginger was 14 and a little bit, which is about a bazillion in dog years, but not nearly enough in human years.
She will be missed very much. Right now she is probably chasing her brother Fred in doggy heaven and trying to wrestle her favourite plastic flower pot from him.
Ginger entering into the Christmas spirit