Latte was larger than life. She took up the whole room with her love and exuberance. She loved to drive in the car with her head out of the sunroof no matter what the weather was outside. She could be seen with her tall head and ears flapping out the window. One day a lady pulled up next to me at a stoplight and told me that the sight of Latte hanging out the sunroof " made her day".|
Latte slept with me and had her position right in the crux of my legs...she spoke with her paws ..and would very "commandingly" push my legs to the side so she could wrap herself in my legs. Latte would also drag articles of my clothing and lay on my jeans, shirts coats, boots...anything and drag them to the living room couch and wait until I got home. Everything that was mine was hers. She followed me everywhere!!! She didn't need a leash because she stayed with me. We went on hikes in the forest preserve and she would go ahead of me and stop and wait for me. She was a leaner and endeared herself to so many people by the way she leaned on people how she looked at people. She was so incredibly special...
This past summer we passed her off as a " service dog" and got her into a stadium for a tennis tournament for a week. Her demeanor and gentleness spoke for itself. There was no question that she could pass for a service dog. She even got into Olive Garden and various other restaurants with the wait staff cooking special meals for her!!!
Latte loved going to the dog beach and even though it took her awhile to trust the water, learned to love the waves. She would only go so far and one of the things we enjoyed was swimming in the lake together . She loved jumping in the waves after her purple toy. Latte also loved Dunlop and Jackie who loved playing with her. They looked up to Latte. They seem very lost without her now.
Latte's brothers miss her and loved playing with her too...She was a special girl and brought us 7 years of love. It was a life cut too short and I am so pained by that. What she gave myself and my family will never be forgotten.