Little Miss,

There is little to describe how amazing you were, but I will try.  I had known you for about 9 years and loved you the entire time. 

The first time we met you tried to scare me with your defensive barking.  You weren't sure who this stranger was entering your domain.  Three seconds later, you were kissing me, after I told you to shut up and promptly fell head over heels for you. 

A little while after that, and lots of time together, you got a little brother of sorts. Taking Daedalus under your wing and teaching him the ropes is something that I have always appreciated.  He learned how to be a good dog, chew on the right toys, how to mush on people and how to relax (generally upside down with your tongue hanging out) all from your tutelage.  Daed was happiest when he got to play with you.  I was happiest when the two of you were together.   And it's a "darned good thing" that your mom could "put up with" Daed, too!

Over the years, I got to see you on a regular basis when Daed would come over to play for the night and hang out on the next day.  You would always greet us with a fluffy, wiggling butt and a flopping tongue to wash my face.  Daed would usually receive a playful paw to the head to start the evening off right, well, once he was done washing your mom's face.

I loved our mush time together. Holding you was like hugging a giant teddy-bear that like to kiss.  Petting you would lull your head into my shoulder followed by a mutual sigh of content between us.  You were always expressive and unrelenting with your affection towards me, Daed, your mom and everyone you would meet.  

I was always amazed by how many people would quickly get over their initial shock of seeing a small brown bear on a leash and ask if they could pet you.  The fact that you would always return their affections with a good sit, some wiggling and a face wash was heart warming.

Like Daed's page, I will continue updating this one with more pictures and stories of how you touched the lives of everyone you met.  For now, I'm having trouble holding it together with the recent and all too early memories of carrying you into the vet's office and being one of the last people you saw or felt. 

I'm trying to take comfort in the fact that where ever you are you're no longer in pain, no longer needing to be tortured by brushes and bathes, rolling around with Daed, Woody and all of the friends that they've made and just running freely where and when you want. 

I love you little girl.