We had to say goodbye to this sweet soul not too long ago. I knew something was wrong when she stopped eating her food, and that something was REALLY wrong when she stopped eating treats.

After a bunch of vet visits, she was diagnosed with end-stage liver failure. She continued to get weaker and the vet said that she probably wouldn’t be with us for much longer, so we did the hardest thing and let her go peacefully.

She came to us as a puppy, and she was a wild one. I had to wear old sweatpants around her until she got most of her adult teeth because she would attack my ankles and put holes in my pants with those tiny, needle-sharp baby teeth.

She settled down a little as she got older and was a wonderful part of our family. She was always up for a walk and adored careening around the dog park with any other dog that she could convince to chase her. And the doggy kisses she’d give! She was the kissiest dog I’ve ever known. She was all-in and gave us all her love, all the time.

Thanks to the pandemic, she was rarely away from us for the last four years of her life. I suspect those were her favorite years since she was always happiest when her whole pack was together.

When we left our home behind a year ago to travel in our camper, we discovered what a wonderful traveling companion she was. She was always ready to take a walk in the campground, go hiking with us on trails all over the country, and jump right up to her spot in the back seat of the truck with a huge grin when it was time to go somewhere new.

We knew it was time to let her go when she stopped smiling, stopped wanting to go for walks, stopped looking us in the eyes. She was having a hard time walking up and down stairs. And, worst of all, she wasn’t able to jump up in bed with us, her favorite place to be when the kid and I read stories together.

In the last few days of her life, we spent a lot of time with her outside to let her sleep in the sun. She looked so small and frail, and our hearts broke for her. She was with us for only eight years, but each of those years was packed with all the love she had.

Since she’s been gone, I’ve made a little ritual where I open the truck door for her as we’re leaving to move to a new campground. You know, just in case she’s still lingering here with us somehow. I don’t want to leave her behind.

She was the smiliest, happiest dog, and her absence leaves a colossal hole in our family.

Goodbye, sweet girl, and I’ll miss you until I see you again.