My mother had a dog, if she were still here she would be 12. She was the best trained dog I have ever met, didnt have to take a leash with you to walk her or anything, when she was 4, she died. Martha was a Bull terrier/boxer, very beatiful dog. Martha was born into a loving family of two friends who decided to cross their dogs, she had many brothers and sisters, all of which died or got stolen before they were old enough to leave home, Martha was the lucky one and mothered pups before she passed on. She looked after my sister and i, only 4 and 6 when she died. On one occasion, she shoulder charged the gate shut from inside the fence to stop my sister and I from going out to two strange men. unfortuantley, as far as i can tell, my father killed her. Made her very sick and although my mother rushed her all over the state to various vets and paid hundreds or thousands of dollars to aid her recovery, she died, and we buried her in the front yard with her collar and favourite toy, but my mother, she kept the bell from her collar and we still have it. soon after, our old BC Jack died, much in the same way, and then Tussy from unrelated causes. And although my mother loves all our dogs, she knows she will never have the connection with another Kanine, quiet like she did with Martha. I'm crying now but atleast her story is told.