Our beloved beach
It's only been 2 days since that hardest day. My heart aches and our home is now just an empty house. I walk in the door, ready to call out, "Where's my dog?" and have you come running to me with your tail wagging, eyes sparkling, and then demanding that I "do something" for you... fill your dish, let you out, or open the "magic water fountain."
I am sorry I selfishly made you suffer longer than you needed to. I was hoping and praying that your illness would not win and you would beat it totally, as you seemed to rally a few times in the past month.
I hate that we weren't able to determine what exact illness stole you from us. You fought it so bravely, and I know you hid your pain until you could no more. You were so brave, even trying to comfort me as I cried next to you when you could no longer walk.
You were no push-over, always knowing exactly what you wanted and "wanting it now!" You were the best friend and lover-dog as you would snuggle next to us. Your Dad is missing you as much as I am. He came home crying from running errands yesterday because you were no longer in his rear-view mirror, snuggled in your seat, enjoying "going bye-bye."
When the icebergs melt this spring and your beloved lake "comes back," just like every spring when you would run into the water splashing, so excited that beach walks once again turned from snow and ice to sand and lake, I will take your ashes there so you can forever run on the sand and into the lake, acting and looking like the beautiful puppy everyone thought you were, even when you were 11 years old.
I will forever love you, Shelby-girl.