Dear Roxanna,
It's now two days since I last kissed your sweet face, and while I think it might actually be getting better today, my heart still aches because you are gone.
The doctor said the reason you couldn't go on anymore was because you had an enlarged heart, and it just couldn't keep up with you anymore. Of course, we already knew that you had a really big heart; you loved us more than we could ever have asked for, and in return we tried to make your life that of a princess.
I remember so well the day we brought you home. It was exactly six weeks after your birthday, June 14th, which was Father's Day. You were the sweetest thing! You had the blondest hair I'd ever seen, and you loved to snuggle on my shoulder. Your dad and I took you on many trips to California in the Peterbilt, and you were always such a good co-pilot. Do you remember how I used to put your ears on top of your head with a hair tie to keep them from dragging in your food? I think sometimes you liked getting your ears all crusted with food...it was like saving snacks for later.
Some of the best memories I have are the ones when we went camping. Knowing how prissy you were, I know being outdoors was not always your favorite thing, but you would never want to be where your family wasn't, so when the suitcases came out, you waited patiently by the door until it was your turn to be loaded in the truck, sitting on your blanket right next to me. You slept so soundly on the road, but knew instinctively when we were passing McDonald's, because plain cheeseburgers were your absolute favorite.
I also remember the time you caught a bird on the way home from meeting Lainie at the bus stop. You were so proud! I was ridden with guilt after having to "dispose" of it after you dumped it on the doorstep, its wounded little body twitching in pain. Until that moment, I had never had to put another living animal out of its misery (bugs and creepy-crawlers excluded).
Then Wednesday came. I knew you hurt badly, but you tried not to show it. You slept like a baby that last night, even though your big, precious heart fought for space against your struggling lungs. The trip to the vet's office was a quiet one, as you slept some more with your head on Lainie's lap, just like so many times before. Taking you there that morning was the most gut-wrenching decision I had to make, but I knew we had reached the end of our time together. You went to sleep peacefully in my arms, and I will forever remember how sweet and fuzzy your little forehead was where I always kissed you.
There must be a heaven for you, my Pretty Princess. You weren't human, yet you brought out my own humanity. You never worried about fame or fortune; your only wish was to bring my heart nearer to the joy of simple things: a wagging tail, a loyal greeter at the door, a warm body to sleep next to. Each day you taught me lessons in steadfast affection - love is not selfish, love is not cruel, love is everlasting and unconditional.
I love you so very much, Baby Girl. Wait for me in heaven. I'll bring you a plain cheeseburger.
Love,
Your Mom
"And now, to all the good dogs - the special ones you loved best, and those of ours we still miss. Goodbye, until on some brighter day in some fairer place, they run out again to greet us again." --George Papashvily
