Picot was born in Kansas. She was purchased from people I worked with, after their female had a litter.
Her Momma's name was ----'s Itsy-Bitsy, and her Daddy was Jake the Fake. She lived in Kansas for less than a year when we decided to sell our home and move back to home-state of Michigan.
Picot loved to chase a tennis ball and would do it for hours till she finally had to lay down and catch her breath-but she never let go of the ball! She kept it tightly clenched in her teeth till she was rested and could get up and go at it somemore.
She was very smart and knew several tricks. When she would bring the ball back and lay it on the ground in front of me, I would say "in my hand" and she'd do a funny little growl, pick the ball up and put it in my hand. Or sometimes she'd lay the ball down and I'd point to a different spot and say "over here", to which she'd do her little growl, pick up the ball and move it to the place I pointed to.
She lived to jump in the John Deer Gator and go for a ride with Poppy. They would come riding around the corner of the house and there would be my husband, driving and his Picot setting on the passengers seat with the most proud look I've ever seen on the face of any dog, like she was saying for the whole world to hear, "I go with my Daddy!".
Picot was a terrific mouser and could also chase and catch baby rabbits before they got too big and started devouring my perennials. She would lay them out proudly on the back porch for me to see when she'd gotten them all.
With as active as she was, it was a shock to find out she had developed congestive heart failure. Just after her 11th birthday we were taking a walk one day and I noticed she was not out in front of me leading like she usually was. I looked behind me and she was walking very slowly. I told her to catch up and she stopped and sat down and just looked at me. I jokingly asked her if she was too tired to walk the rest of the way home and she didn't move. So I walked back a few yards and picked her up. Immediately her head went down over my arm and I HAD to carry her back to the house. I knew something was wrong.
An immediate trip to the vet and we found the answer. For the next 4 months she was on a regimen of Lasix and some other drug to help her heart beat easier. She made it thru a final deer season but shortly after that she started going down hill and we knew it was time to "help her out". One night she was having alot of difficulty breathing and we had to make a run to the All-night Pet Emergency Clinic.
Picot was put to sleep. She was laid to rest behind the barn with our other Furry Friends, and her favorite tennis ball is with her.
As her marker says, "We Are Only A Heart-Beat Away"