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These pages are about our pet, Murphy. The little book on the first page opens up to reveal this journaling:Before Jeff was a police officer, he was a fireman- and what does every fireman want? A Dalmatian! We had debated for quite some time about getting a dog and eventually decided against it. We lived in an apartment complex that allowed pets, but we really wanted to wait until we were in a house before taking on such a task. But one day, as fate would have it, we were driving home from my Mom amd Dad's house when we saw a sign advertising a Dalmatian for sale. One a whim, we stopped to inquire about the dog and discovered they were only asking $50! What a bargain! Besides that, he was AKC certified and used to compete in dog shows, so he was very well behaved and friendly. Poor Jeff was still recuperating from his leg injury and was unable to even get out of the car, so I went to the door. The lady called for him, and he came right out onto their porch, sniffed at me once and jumped up and gave me a kiss on the cheek. I was sold! I asked if I could go show him to Jeff and we walked over to where the car was parked. Jeff stood up out of the car and the dog ran right to him, jumped up on his chest and gave him a big kiss too! I think that was all it took to melt our hearts. The people selling him told us the dog's name was Murphy- which we thought was absolutely perfect and did not change. He was already a year old, potty trained and knew every command we could think up. He also knew how to perform a bunch of tricks- Jeff's favorite shows how careful Murphy could be- he tenatively stands on his hind legs and ever-so-carefully reaches up with his mouth and removes a treat from Jeff's lips. I loved the fact that he was so trusting- I could practically do anything to him and he would not mind. I loved to cuddle with him and use him as my big, soft pillow- and I loved the fact that he liked to snuggle in bed with me. He would curl up under the covers- with his head on my pillow!***In 1999, Murphy was diagnosed as having stones in his bladder that caused him excruciating pain when he tried to urinate- which he had to do constantly because of them. Since he was still so young, we chose to pay for the surgery to have them removed. It was a long and painful recovery for the poor guy. This past Novemeber, days after we had moved into our house, I noticed he was having problems urinating again. We rushed him into the vet's office, hoping that it would not be what we had faced before. He was diagnosed with the same malady. This time, instead of making him go through the torture of the surgery again, we chose to put him down. It was the hardest decision we've ever had to make. I will always miss him.