She was always one of the first to greet visitors, often nudging her way to the front of the bunch to say hello, receive a treat or scratch.
Many visitors will remember Rosie standing so close to them and with just the hint of a pet Rosie would flop over onto her side, exposing her tummy for her favorite pleasure in the entire world -a belly rub.
Then slowly there was a change. Rosie still came running to greet all, but her appetite was gone and she was extremely picky about what she would eat. It was when she wouldn't let me touch her tummy that I knew how serious it was.
Many, many trips to the vet, isolated care, coaxing her to eat and the weight still dropped off. She became incredibly thin. She was a shadow of her former self, yet she was the same old girl, always coming to greet me with such anticipation. With all I did for her I couldn't do more.
Rosie's body was full of an aggressively growing cancer. On a cold winter day I buried my dear friend and although I was alone on that day I promised Rosie she is remembered fondly by many visitors to the sanctuary. The sparkle that was "her" will forever shine.