Dear Zoë,

You came into the world a bit early. They weren’t expecting you for several days when your mum decided to have you in a tulip patch. Your dad and I visited you when you were barely a week old. I remember planting kisses on your head and falling instantly and madly in love with you. You looked like a little loaf of bread.

I remember getting updates. Those first grainy black and white pictures coming over the internet of such a serious little girl.

When I found out you had cancer my heart broke. I knew that you would be taken from us too soon. You were such a trooper. Taking your meds and not complaining. Never a whimper or a sigh. When I saw you start to struggle with the stairs that you had previously run up and down while fetching your toy, I knew you weren’t letting on how much you hurt.

Last Sunday afternoon you sat dawn and decided not to get up. I knew the end was near. You didn’t even want to see your beloved toy. That toy that was never out of your sight.

Later that night you kept kissing my hand with such an intensity that I felt you were telling me that you were ready…and getting in as much love as we both could bear.

You died, later that night, at home, while lying on the same blanket you had slept on your first night with us. You took such a huge piece of my heart with you. I just can’t stop crying, I miss you so much. Your baby sister Emma keeps looking for you as well. I see her confusion as she doesn’t quite understand where you have gone.

I will keep my promise to you. You were a good dog, so brave and beautiful.

I will always love you.

RIP Zoë --- June 1999 June 2010

Peace,

Your momma.