Sweet Jake,

This is the third letter I’ve written to you, but the first I’ve shared with the world.

I think about you all the time. I miss you terribly. Yesterday I rearranged your memorial shelf, and I broke down into tears holding your ashes. I wish so very badly I could dance with you and play with your crooked, giant paws and run my fingers again through your hair. Instead, all I can do is hold what’s left of you.

The guilt eats away at me daily. I often wonder what else I could have done, how much time we would have had left together if we hadn’t said goodbye. I look at the passenger’s seat in my car and imagine you laying your head on the center console like you always did, and how you’d always stare at me with those big, brown eyes, fighting through sleep just to look at me.

I see you beside Peanut and Bailey when they watch me in the kitchen. I know you should be right there beside them. The house feels empty without you. I’d give so much just to hear your nails clicking on the floor again or listen to you slurp down all the water. I even miss when you'd clear a room with your toots. I think you'd get a kick out of that.

I know you came to me in a dream a few days ago and I am still wondering if that was you trying to tell me “It’s okay”. I hope it is okay. I hope you’re okay. I didn’t want to say goodbye to you again and I had to. I think you were maybe telling me your end was inevitable. I just wish it wasn’t. I wish you knew how badly I want it to be you and me, Jake and Sarah, all over again. We didn’t have enough time together, but I am honored I got to be your owner, and you got to be my beautiful soul dog for the last 5 years of your life.

I love and miss you, buddy. I know you’re still out there across the sky, until the end of time.

Until we meet again.

Love always,

Sarah