When we decided to get a dog, we first went to the local SPCA, picked out this hairy little gray mutt named Angel, a year old. Three weeks later, she died-she had contracted distemper at the pound.
So, after the three months self-quarantine(the vet told us no animals for that time), I went to a place called The Puppy Barn and looked in all the pens. One of the last pens held 3 coonhounds and this white....thing. Those big coonhounds didn't stand a chance against her when I looked over; she was jumping like a flea, as if to tell me 'get me the FUCK out of HERE!' The puppy barn had a little 'get acquainted' room so you can interact with your choice. I knelt down on the floor and she put her head on my lap and sighed. Sold....
Angie was 3 months old and my dad said that was too old to housebreak. It was hard, but not only did she get housebroken, I taught her to ring some bells I hung on a string by the back door so we'd know she had to go.
No plain old tricks either. Her toys, I taught her the colors, ie; 'go get the green one, Angie' and she'd bring her frog to play fetch. Instead of 'play dead', we did 'Bang!' and she'd hit the floor; 'lay down' was 'go to your rug'. And when we sang "Here Comes Santa Claus", she ran barking to the front door.
Angie lived to be 16. Her last 3 or 4 years, she developed arthritis in her hips, her hearing was going-she couldn't even hear us come home. She had to be carried up the stairs. Her last year, she became incontinent, then lost control of her bowels. I found her one night have some sort of seizure and I knew it was a stroke. Her back was sharply arched, she was pooping and her head was cocked funny. After that, she'd fall over trying to pee, cry quietly....I took her to the vet, who tried to talk me out of it, but she was suffering. She didn't even fight and, while all her life a ride in the car would make her so nervous I would have to pull over and let her out, this ride, she just lay there.
My name is hers. 3.5 years later, I still miss her. I want another dog, but she's irreplaceable and quite frankly, I don't think I could deal with that pain again.