March 31, 2008.

Dear Annie,


You came to me in 2003, only a month after I had moved into my house. I found you online, you were a rescue dog. Maria and I already had another dog picked out at the pound, but we saw you and instantly fell in love. You were mopey and whiney, you always have been, but we loved how much you instantly loved us, the way you crept up to us, like you were scared. But once we started petting you, I don't think you ever left.


You were always there. Constantly under my feet, wanting nothing more than to be appreciated, to make me happy. I want you to know that you succeeded fantastically. It was nearly impossible to be miserable when you were around. You made everyone around you so happy. Even when you were being irritating, I was never able to be mad at you for more than two minutes.


You're sleeping because you got sick. I know it must be confusing where ever you are, you never really understood change. You might not have been in any pain, but it was going to get worse. And there wasn't anything the doctors could do for you. So, instead of having your last months be miserable, Grandma and I decided it would be better if your life ended peacefully. I hope if nothing else makes sense, that does.


I hope you can forgive me for not being in the room when it happened. I want you to know I wanted to be there. I was planning on it. But, I just could not watch the light leave your eyes. I couldn't have that memory. And I know you never liked to be alone. But, I hope you can understand why I had to leave you alone for your last minutes. I haven't quite forgiven myself yet.


Kenneth and I buried you at my mother's house under two juniper trees. You never went there, but I think you would have loved it. You were always a hound dog and there are lots of new smells there. I hope your body can rest comfortably there.


I also hope your little puppy soul is floating high above us all and that there is a fantastic bakery in puppy heaven where you can eat all the bread you want. I hope there's lots of people around, so you're never, ever alone. Maybe you'll even be reunited with your first owner. I always liked to think she was a little old lady who passed away, leaving her family to take care of you. I hope you meet all of the other dogs I've loved in my life and even though you were always protective of me, you can make some friends.


I have a lot of hope for you Annie, I always have. You were a fantastic companion for the last 5 years and I think anyone who met you instantly felt that. I hope that I gave you a good home, a safe home, and that you enjoyed the last years of your life. I tried really hard to be a good pet owner and I think you knew that. I'll miss a lot of things about you, but I think mostly I'll just feel a big empty space in my life where you used to be. I hope you're safe and I hope you're happy.

Love, Catherine.