6/21/11 to 7/25/11
Sarah, you came into my life when you were just 7 weeks old, to fill the empty void left by the passing of Maize only 3 weeks earlier. I thought I was ready for a puppy, and I needed you more than you could have known. As a puppy you went to horse shows with me and charmed everyone you met – you rode on luggage carts in hotels and somehow you housebroke yourself in record time. I wish that I had been a better dog-mom to you when you were so young, but I was still grieving for Maize. It wasn’t until we moved into our new house a year later that I really bonded with you the way I should have earlier. You were my heart and soul, my companion, my best friend. Your long soulful looks told me who was worthy of being in my life and who wasn’t. You were an amazing friend to the foster dogs who came into our lives, and although you weren’t thrilled about it, you welcomed Kai into our family when you were almost 7 years old. The 3 of us were a family, and you loved going to the lake and wading around, or trying to swim after ducks. Your favorite thing was going for boat rides, and I am so glad that we were able to go for a ride this past June. You were diagnosed with Cushings when you were 11 years old, and you fought back like a champ…although I had my fears. When you were strong enough, I brought Lily home, to be a companion for Kai, since you weren’t able to play with him the way you had when you were younger. And the looks you gave me told me just how “less than thrilled” you were about it – but you seemed to understand that he was going to need her someday. Well that someday came much too soon – and much too suddenly. You were here when I left for work, but something happened in those few hours that I was away. And it was determined that I was going to have to let you go. It has been several days and I wonder when the aching will stop. I miss your big eyes gazing up at me from behind my chair in the kitchen, and your paw reaching for “more pet” when I would stop. Your step dad, Dan, is lost without you, “his girl” – the only furkid who could stare him down. And Kai…even though he has Lily…he is anxious and looks for you still. You left an indelible mark on all of us. I called you my “heartdog” – the love of my life. And now my heart is broken. Sarah, we will all love you and miss you forever – and I know that somewhere down the road we will be together again. You were one of a kind, and the world is a little less happy without you.
We Love You Forever Sarah, Mom, Dan, Kai and Lily.