It was an honor to be with you during your last moments today. It was one of the hardest experiences of my life, but I wanted so much for mine to be the last touch you felt and the last voice you heard as you drifted off to sleep. I must have told you a hundred times that you were such a good, good girl.
And I meant it. Your whole happiness in life was to be near us. You just lit up like the sun when we walked into the room, even after 8 years in our family. We would laugh at how your whole back-end would wag, not just your stubby tail. And then the sound of our laughter would make you even more excited.
You weren't always the easiest dog to love, what with your smelly farts, your pestering, and your escape-artist tendencies. But you balanced it out with the kindest, sweetest, most eager-to-please heart that I've ever known. EVER. That light in you is the reason why I had to rescue you all those years ago at the shelter. I'm sorry that we weren't always as patient with you as we could have been. I'm sorry that you didn't always get as much attention as you probably wanted, especially in the past couple of stressful months. But your good and faithful heart never held a grudge for a minute.
I got a book for Elliott so that we could talk more about doggie heaven. It says, "There is a beginning and an ending for everything that is alive. In between is living." We had almost 8 good years of living with you, and I like to think that you had 8 good years with us. You are loved and will be missed.