Dear June Bug- This house isn’t the same without you. We miss your cuddles, especially Gus. Life isn’t fair and you were stuck with a body full of ailments. You knew your way around a vet’s office. We knew you wouldn’t get a full life but a brain tumor meant you didn’t even make it to 10.
You sometimes made people on the street nervous because you’d stare or do a mini-lunge at them. People assumed you were dangerous. Those who stopped, realized you were lunging at them because you were obsessed with people and nothing made you happier than a stranger stopping to pet you.
When we first got you, you’d put your paw on my arm while I was driving. You’d whine if there were people having too much fun at the dinner table and you were stuck on the couch. You’d sniff our faces all over – we called it ‘chuff-chuffing’. You got into EVERYTHING.
At 8 you seemed sad and slower so we got you Gus, a rowdy puppy torn apart from his family. You were his mama and he became your shadow. As you died, he curled up next to you and tucked his head under yours. He’s so sad now.
I can still feel you in my arms. You’ll always live in our hearts.
