Dear Otis,

What can I say? It's taken me a long time to sit down and write this letter. Largely, this is because I find myself often without the words to express the depth of my emotions, or more importantly, the enormity of the place you occupy in my heart.

We met when someone thought you weren't worth keeping because you were "ugly." They let you run free around the neighborhood and it's a miracle you weren't hit by a car. Ugly? You are the sweetest dog inside and out, and quite handsome!

You were skeptical of everyone when you first joined us at the house on Camilla. Within weeks however, your wily self emerged, running in the yard, chasing the ball and even accompanying a few bike rides.

How anyone could *not* have wanted you is incredible to me; it took all of about 5 seconds for anyone to fall in love with you! And, you loved to show off. I showed you a few tricks and you were always so eager to perform them. In fact, it was your tricks that first attracted your mama to me. She absolutely fell in love with you first!

When you met Pushkin, we knew it was kismet as you two hit it off immediately. Within minutes, you were chasing the Billy Pilgrim toy around the house and knocking around. The memory is still so vivid, I call upon it often when I'm missing you.

Otis, I want to say thank you for 12 years of laughs, love, and daily joy. Every day is a gift, and having you in it made every day so extra special. Now, not having you here is hard, but I am grateful for the way you changed me and helped me find a greater depth of love for all beings. And, I know, in some way, you're a part of everything around me... When we walk in the park past your favorite tree, when Galileo does his business on the slope where you once did, I know that you are all around us, still there, still showing G what to do.

You'll always be my wingman.

Love,

Your Dad, Seth

Dear Sugar,

Today marks 1 year without you here to curl up in my lap. I wanted to do this much sooner than now, but the truth is, I'm still coping with not having you here. I'm just now able to say your name and look at pictures of you. I still cry. I teared up at work today because of what happened last year on this day. I still remember it like it was yesterday. I feel horrible because you passed on a Tuesday and I adopted your sister the following Saturday. I didn't do it to replace you because you will never be replaced. I did it because I needed help getting through the minutes. She helped, but my heart had to heal a little bit more. She's beautiful, Sugar - I know you wouldn't like her, but she's taking care of me. Her name is Abi. So is Flax. I know you don't like him because you met him. Boy, that was fun (not!) But he's taking care of me too and I know you would like him for that. Going from a sweet 16 year old girl like you to two babies at the same time was sure a challenge! But it kept me busy, which is what I needed.

Your daddy and I are getting married next year! We finally set a date :-) Don't worry, my daddy stayed with me a little longer after you were gone. He took you back home with him so you live at your old stomping grounds again. We protected your grave and you have a beautiful marker right above you. You're right next to Trixie and I know you two are running around together again. You in the front, and Trixie right on your heels, chasing you and trying to bite your butt (literally). Geez, I'm sobbing like a huge baby right now. I know one day I'll be able to think about you and smile without crying. One day, I'll be able to display more pictures of you. I kept the shirt that I was wearing as I held you that day - is that weird? I just can't let it go or wash it yet.

I miss you. I miss the small things that you would do. Sometimes, I'll be cuddling with Flax and Abi and I'll be petting them, then I'll catch myself petting their feet, but I'll immediately stop. Then I remember that you're the one who didn't like that - not them. You absolutely hated your back feet being touched. Other times, Flax might be standing over me, and I'll wait for him to start licking my forehead...but he doesn't do that. You did. I miss that too. They aren't good nighttime spooners like you were. I miss spooning with you, Sugar! ....and they have ruined my furniture. They claw it. I'm up to four scratching posts and a HUGE cat tree...and they still prefer the couch and chair. Go figure. You never did that. They have ruined the blinds that cover the back doors and Flax likes to chew my shoes. Abi likes to chew the sideof the door frame. Since when do cats do that?! Abi's other hobbies are not using the litter box and swinging from the shower curtain and/or bedroom curtain by her front claws. *sigh*

I might be moving soon. I found out this week that I'll have to move because they are going to renovate. I'm glad I don't have to put you through another move. Bless your heart, we moved one year before we lost you. I know you were nervous and not happy - you hated car rides. I still have the video of you talking to me while we drove to our new home :-) I'm curious to see how Flax and Abi will deal with it. This is the only home they've ever known. They like car rides though. Flax likes to ride in my lap. I think Abi gets sick like you used to. I remember when we first moved with you. We had hardwood at our old house and carpet in the new one. You fell on your side and started rolling around from one side, to your back, to the other side, and back again. I laughed so hard. I don't think you ever lived in a carpeted house until we moved. I don't want to move because I feel like I'll be leaving you behind. I keep telling myself that I won't be though, because I have our blanket and other things that remind me of you. They say time heals, but that's not entirely true. It just makes it easier to remember the one you love. As time goes on, I can remember you and not cry so quickly. The day will come when I remember you and smile without crying at all. I know you want that day to be here now. You didn't like to see me cry. You always knew and you were always there with cuddles. I think Abi and Flax know that I'm sad today. They haven't left my side. Abi tried to give me nose kisses.

The coolest thing happened today. I was on my way to work and I passed the police station. All of the flags were lowered to half mast, but I can't find any reason for them to be. So my conclusion is that they are lowered in your memory, my sweet girl. All for you! And you definitely deserve it because you were the best kitty ever! I know you're still watching over me and one day we will be together again. Time will fly and that day will be here soon. Until then, I'm going to live for you, Sugar cat. I'll cuddle Flax and Abi as much as I can and give them all the kisses I can. I did my best to take care of you, including knowing when it was time to say goodbye. Now I'm taking care of Flax and Abi. You were such a spoiled little girl and the best way to honor you, I felt, was to adopt another little girl. That's why I got Abi. She needed a home and you gave her one. Words can't express how much I miss my favorite cuddle buddy, but I'm living one day at a time, just doing my thing and staying busy.

I love you my sweet Sugar cat.

Missing You,

Your Mama

Dear Monster Pee Wee and Spooky Boo "Pooh Bear",

My Dear Sweet Saints:

Not a moment has passed that I don't think of You and remember the Life of Bliss I once had with You both.

Now, all I can do is Thank GOD in Heaven for allowing me to share the Precious Lives of the most 2 Beautiful, Loving and Spiritual Beings that I know God created to teach me the things I needed to know. Every single moment I had with both of You was Heaven on earth. Both of You left me too soon and long before I stopped needing You. You both colored my world with the Purest form of Beauty, Love, Humility, Honor and Innocence that will never come again in my life. I never wanted to spend a moment without You because in Your presence, I felt GOD and saw the work of His amazing Hand and Spirit.

I drag through each day left with a horrible void and only wanting to feel that Goodness just one more time. No day since You left me have I enjoyed. The sun stopped shinning and the color left my world. Watching You take care of each other and being taken care of by You both was just a glimpse of what I Hope Heaven is like.

Watching You enjoy life and the world with amazing courage and complete Trust renewed me each day. You Both gave me gifts that no other person or creature has ever given me and seeing the respect You garnered from other creatures simply amazed me. It was as if all life "Knew" Your Beautiful Spirits. I learned from You that there is so much that man does not know and I remember feeling so Humble in Your presence. As if I were a child and You were my teachers. You looked at me for direction and safety and I failed You in ways that I didn't know. But You NEVER failed me, never once did You disappoint me but instead, You made me the Proudest Person alive knowing I was in the company of Saints.

I've shared my life with Pets but You two were not pets but my teachers and my Soul Mates. I will forever Long for You, Miss You and Thank God for You. You will never be forgotten nor will I ever be the same after knowing You. You changed me, enlightened me and allowed me a glimpse into Heaven.

Forever in My Heart You will Live, You are Part of Me and I hope and will Live to be with You both again for whatever I do, I will do with the same Loving, Compassionate and Innocent Spirit that You taught me with. God Bless My Saints for I will stand and kneel and pray to God that because of You, I am closer to what God wanted me to be.

You are God's vessels and He used You both and I know that Your reward is Great and Mighty. I will live praying that upon my last breath on earth, it will be You who greets me when my suffering is through. God Bless You Sweet Sons and Saints.

Psalm 23 I pray for You both as was our prayer each night together.

I LOVE YOU ETERNALLY, Daddy.

Love,

Daddy

Dear CHARLIE,

SINCE 1937 I’VE HAD SOME GREAT GERMAN SHEPHERD DOGS BUT YOU, MY CHARLIE BOY, HAVE A VERY SPECIAL PLACE IN MY HEART.

IT IS HARD TO BELIEVE THAT YOU WERE ONLY WITH US FOR THREE AND A HALF YEARS BUT IN THAT SHORT TIME. YOU MADE OUR HOME A HAPPIER PLACE BY FAR.

YOU AND I QUICKLY BONDED AND YOU RARELY LEFT MY SIDE. IF I DID LEAVE YOU AT HOME FOR SOME REASON I RECALL YOUR MOM TELLING ME HOW YOU’D SIT BY THE DOOR CRYING UNTIL I CAME HOME. NOW WHEN I OPEN THE DOOR I HAVE TO STEAL MY SELF BECAUSE SADLY I KNOW YOU WILL NOT BE THERE TO GREET ME.

IT WAS BECAUSE OF YOU THAT I FINALLY GOT TO MEET MOST OF OUR NEIGHBORS. DURING OUR LONG WALKS, YOU BEING SUCH A SOCIAL FELLOW, WOULD WANT TO STOP AND SAY HELLO TO EVERYONE WE MET ALONG THE WAY. I EVEN REMEMBER PEOPLE STOPPING THEIR CARS AND COMMENTING OUT THE OPEN WINDOWS ABOUT WHAT A BEAUTIFUL BOY YOU WERE. YOUR MANY FRIENDS AND ADMIRERS LIKE GINA, FAYE, ZOE, OTTO AND ESPECIALLY BIG BUSTER PLUS ALL OF THEIR PARENTS ARE GOING TO MISS YOUR VISITS.

TO THIS DAY PEOPLE STOP AND SAY “HELLO CHARLIE’S DAD. WHERE’S CHARLIE?” AND EVERYONE IS SADDENED TO HEAR THAT YOU ARE NO LONGER WITH US.

MOM AND I ALWAYS LOOKED FORWARD TO SEEING YOUR SMILING FACE WHEN WE GOT UP EACH MORNING BECAUSE YOUR PRESENCE MADE OUR DAY A BETTER ONE.

I’M GOING TO MISS OUR GAMES OF FETCH THE BALL ESPECIALLY THE GAMES WHERE YOU’D, INTENTIONALLY, ROLL THE BALL UNDER THE COUCH OR A CABINET AND THEN COME AND GET ME TO RETRIEVE IT. YOU WOULD LEAD ME INTO THE ROOM AND POINT TOWARDS THE BALL WITH YOUR NOSE. I WOULD HAVE TO GET DOWN ON MY HANDS AND KNEES WITH YOU, CROUCHING BESIDE ME, URGING ME ON. I’D DIG THE BALL OUT AND GIVE IT TO YOU WHILE STERNLY SAYING, “NOW DON’T DO THAT AGAIN.” IT DIDN’T TAKE ME LONG TO REALIZE IT WAS A TRICK YOU WERE PLAYING ON ME BECAUSE AS SOON AS I’D TURN MY BACK YOU’D ROLL THE BALL UNDER THE FURNITURE AGAIN AND THE GAME WOULD CONTINUE UNTIL ONE OF US GOT TIRED. GUESS WHICH ONE.

I’M ALSO GOING TO MISS THE TIMES WHEN YOU’D SNEAK UP ON THE COUCH AND SNUGGLE UP TO ME ( DON’T YOU WORRY, I WON’T TELL MOM )

I DON’T THINK THERE WAS A DAY WHEN, IN THOSE THREE AND A HALF YEARS, WE DIDN’T SPEND SOME REAL QUALITY TIME TOGETHER AND I KNOW THAT YOU KNOW I ENJOYED EVERY MINUTE OF IT. I HOPE YOU DID AS WELL.

I MISS YOU SO MUCH MY CHARLIE BOY,

YOUR LOVING DAD, GLENN

Love,

Your loving dad, Glenn

Dear Shep,

It's been over 30 years since you left us to go over the rainbow bridge.

Mum found you as a stray and you brought such joy into our lives.

We had you for six years and you left us too soon. Dad took you to the vets and came back without you. I was going out that night and Mum persuaded me didn't have time to accompany you to the vets and meet my friends. I now wish I was there, so I could have held you when they put you to sleep. I didn't realize how sick you were and thought they were going to treat you. I was heartbroken as it was sudden and you hadn't yet reached old age. I cried myself to sleep that night and woke up crying throughout the night. Afterwards, I felt guilty, wishing I'd have walked you more often and been more patient with you. You were the first dog I had and I never realised what nice animals they could be. I'm so glad we found you and hope you enjoyed your time with us. I hope you are somewhere watching over me and playing with your friend, Monty.

Love,

Anne

Dear Zoe,

Oh how I miss you! It's been 5 weeks today since you left our family and it's still so very hard and heart breaking to me. I feel your loss so deeply and I just cant seem to get the hurt to stop.

Every night before I go to sleep I tell you how much I love you and miss you and I hope to see you in my dreams every night.

Zoe you were there for me on some of the hardest times I have ever experienced, you loved me unconditionally and fully even though at times I didn't think I deserved love from anyone or anything.

I didn't know how much you filled my life and heart until the very minute you left me. I hope you know I wish I could of done more for you, but cancer is a hard thing and looking back now I see you had been going through it for awhile, but you were so good you didn't show me just how sick you were until that fateful day. I cant believe I lost you at nearly 7 yrs old just seems so unfair. I thought we had so much more time together. I thought you were going to be our travel buddy when we hit the road in a couple years. I would give anything if I could just hold you one more time and smell you and see you run around the house picking up balls and bringing them over to play. You were such a good girl Zoe. Some look at you with fear, but you were always a special girl to us and our family. One day we will see each other again at the Rainbow bridge and until then I hope you and Magie and all our other fur babies are playing together.

I Love you Zoe my beautiful special Rottie!!

Missing You,

Me

Dear DOJO,

Words can not convey the depth of loss I feel in my life, since you passed away at 9 years old from cancer. June 21st, 2013, the first day of Spring, and the day that I felt giving up on life. You comforted me when Dad died, then when we lost Mum. I would not have been able to get back on my feet after we lost Pat, if I had not been able to talk to you and cry into your fur, while you wrapped your skinny little leg around me in a hug. We were a team. You won Cesar Millans DOG OF THE YEAR 2011 for all your charity and therapy work. You ran the dog rescue with me and showed the lost souls how to be a good dog. You were my heart dog, my `go to` dog, for everything in life. Nothing is the same without you Doj. You were THEE Ambassador for Rottweilers, the gentlest and most compassionate dog I have ever met in my life. Every night you lay on my side of the bed to warm it up for me. You were my confidante, my trusted best friend, my strength, my joy, my love and my pride. You aced 6 levels of obedience, sometimes we didn`t have time for the practice so we`d stand in the parking lot of the training school 5 minutes before class and whip through some commands, you nailed everything in 30 seconds, lol, you were so easy to teach and so eager to please and help. People would laugh when they saw you in the front of the canoe with your eyes closed snoring so loud it echoed across the lake, canoeing always lulled you to sleep, lol. You kept me warm in the tent and I feared nothing or no one, even though you would never fight or even growl, you were the peacemaker. I lost all direction when you died.

Oh Dojo, you meant the world to me my big gentle boy. I miss you so much my Doj and love you forever. See you at the Rainbow Bridge. Thank you Doji.

Love Mum XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Missing You,

Mummy x

Dear Scooter,

I miss your little waddle. And your grumpy bark. I hope you loved living with me as much as I loved you.

Mr Butters and I miss you around the house. I hope you're happy in heaven, as I'm certain that's where you are.

You were such a good boy.

Love,

Gaylan

Dear Tedman,

We had to say goodbye Teddy on May 14, 2014. We had no choice. We had just under a year together, and I have to tell you, it was one of the finest years I've ever had. Don't get me wrong, I've loved all my dogs. But you were SO special. You brought love and light and laughter and happiness to me, the kind of which I've rarely seen in these 54 years and counting. The night you arrived home, after weeks of monitoring you and finally discovering you weren't adopting out for your health issues, I made my decision, and you arrived. Your smile was the most infectious ever. You came in that night, unpacked your bags, and settled in. It took no time at all, for us to make friends. You slipped into our lives like a glove. Our first months together were awesome. You were such an excellent co-pilot and rescue Ambassador. I loved dancing with, and cuddling you every night around suppertime. I rejoiced when you'd wander down into the office from your spot in the living room, whenever you smelled food, or anticipated the next "event" in our day. I loved celebrating you, like no other. Teddy! TEDDY! I loved how you licked my nose. My god, what a gift it was, when you would lick my nose. I loved every hair on your beautiful head. I loved policing you in the backyard, in good weather, and in bad. I loved your tippy tappy toe toe dance, the special one you'd give, when you were anticipating treats, attention, or just love, sweet love. I loved the smell of you, I loved your toes, I loved your smile, I loved your presence. Teddy, I just loved YOU. Every single thing about you, every moment together, you made my world. I will never forget you.You were brighter than a thousand suns. For gods sakes, you upstaged JC!!! You were just a star Tedman, that's what you were, and still are. I wish to god I could have one more minute with you. Ted, I have to say goodbye to 2014, and with it, you. Your picture is over my desk. Friends, family, colleagues all miss you. They SAW you. They loved you. Ted man Harrison Nadon - we will never be the same, and we thank you most sincerely, utterly, for gracing our lives. Teddy, if I may be so bold, pls wait for me. All I want to do is hold you in my arms again. Please stay on the bridge. Watch for Cyril, Mo, Max, Stormont, Petey, TrixieLu, Mishe and Choules... and Nana. Wait for me honey. If I found you in this life, I WILL find you in the next. I love you darling littleone. Kiss your face, Teddy. Thank you for your love, and your trust, Tedman.

Love,

mitch

Dear Otis,

Merry Christmas to my dear, sweet boy. My handsome, stalwart one. My little New Yorker. My hunk-a-chunk-a-love. The rock of our family. The glue that keeps it together. The little prana running around our home. My great joy. All these phrases I used over and over again with you to describe the sparkling spirit that came to me wrapped up in a dog suit (those adorable “floating cloud” eyebrows). It’s no wonder I have so may songs about you, all those silly little lyrics I set to various (admittedly, mostly lifted) melodies.

I started singing to you, about you, practically the day I met you (Hello Otis, Well hello Otis, it’s so nice to have you right where you belong…) and kept writing those little tunes throughout our more than ten years together. One of the more recent ones, that snappy little ditty I started up that night last winter while we were bracing ourselves against the cold, whipping wind and the snow (Let me love ya, Otis… I’ll keep you safe, I’ll keep you warm, I’ll rub your belly for all of that charm…Let me love ya, Otis), was a particularly good addition to our song catalog, I think. And one of the very first songs I wrote that included you, I’ve been singing every day since you had to go because it has given me such an incredible amount of comfort during this grieving process:

Pushkin and Otis, brothers and friends,

Pushkin and Otis, friends to the end.

Whether they’re playing or sleeping tonight

Pushkin and Otis are doing just fine.

It comforts me and brings me a modicum of happiness in the midst of the sadness to think that, after nearly six years of flying solo, Pushkin is no longer alone on the other side; you are both young and spry again, scampering around together and loving every minute of it. Now you’re alongside your big brother for our morning meditation together, and again each evening for our Om Shanti, Goodnight. We created this routine when our family was grieving over the loss of Pushkin, and the routine’s not going anywhere. You know that each morning we’re going to start the day with “Good morning, Pushkin! Good morning, Otis!” You can count on it.

You also know I’m still singing to you each day, just like I kept on singing to Pushkin after he went with the angels. I made sure before you left us that you knew, beyond all the “Otis” songs, the one special song that, whenever you hear me singing it, you know I’m singing it just for you:

I’ll be seeing you in all the old familiar places, that this heart of mine embraces…

Yes, each day “in the park across the way” as I’m still walking your brother Galileo, I’m seeing you right there with us. I’m grateful for every minute I ever had with you, but in these recent days I’m especially thankful for the glorious year and half we had here together in New York. For all my initial concerns about how you — a Tucson dog, and a dog with some later-in-life aggressive behavior challenges — would fare in the city, you couldn’t have surprised and delighted me more. Within two days, you made New York yours: you adapted more quickly than any of us, even me. With the help of our marvelous trainer Inna, you immediately figured out how not only to tolerate neighborhood walks on a leash (no more backyard and dog door), but also how to savor those long walks in the park. You figured out how to not go berserk at the sight of another canine in the distance so we could have that time together. Awesome job, Otis! I told you over an over again how proud I was of you, and it’s so true. You were a rockstar.

You didn’t just adjust, either; you thrived. There seemed to be a new bounce in your step here in NYC. We arrived in springtime and, by the fall, it was clear you were loving the slightly cooler weather; and the way you trotted around the neighborhood, it was clear you thought you were such hot stuff anytime you were sporting one of your sweaters or jackets. So, while the rest of the family fumbled around a bit while trying to get the new groove on, you showed us all that, indeed, you can teach an old dog new tricks. More than that, the old dog is perfectly capable and happy to figure out some new things himself, as long as the day offers him a belly rub or two. One of my favorite images of you from here in New York: you, sound asleep on your back on the living room carpet, one arm outstretched — we tagged it the “Superman Pose.” You spent many an afternoon like that. A picture of utter contentment.

You were with me for a little more than a decade of your fourteen and a half years. You came to me through your Dad, who adopted you a couple of years before we all got together. He calls you his wingman because for a while it was just you and him. It was with an invitation for me to meet you that your Dad got his “in” to spend some time with me: that first night I went back to his apartment to meet you, and he and I ended up just talking until dawn. Do you remember that? He asked you to do some tricks for me because you were such a performer. Rolling around, twirling in the air… a couple of years later, you learned to jump up on the piano bench and press the keys when he asked you to play. Even back then, all you ever wanted in return was to be shown a little appreciation, a little love: a “good boy,” a belly rub, a treat.

There are a few very specific things I need to thank you for. While it’s true that most animals (at least to some extent) aim to please, one of the qualities that made you so special was your knack for making a person — any person, whether a family member or someone you just met — feel like he/she was your favorite. If a friend came to visit, you would in the quietest most un-pushy way, inch onto his/her lap for some lovin.’ Above all, let’s just say it here: you were a Grandma’s boy, and it wasn’t just for her Sunday meatballs. The attention and affection you gave Grandma let her know just how special she was to you and the rest of our family. That was a great gift you gave to her Otis, because she does a lot of thoughtful things for all of us, and sometimes the rest of us may not do as good a job as we should letting her know how much all the little things mean to us. So it was a gift to her, and something beautiful you also did for the whole family. Thank you for that.

Another thing I want to thank you for: Going back to that first night I met you… your Dad and I always joked afterwards that you gave him a strong talking to after I left that night, saying “SHE is my mama! You found her! So you better not f*#%k this up!” Yes, Otis, there is no doubt that, although your dad met you first and took on the role of your guardian, I was your mama long before I met you that night. The universe was working to bring us together from the moment you arrived on the planet. And when we did all get together in Tucson, I already had Pushkin. But what you — and later, Galileo — taught me was this miraculous thing about the human heart’s capacity: all three of you boys became my #1 at the same time. While it’s true that Pushkin got a lot of attention in his last years because he was ill, and Galileo has always required a great deal of attention — first, because he’s such a bundle of high energy and, second, because of his epilepsy — you were never taken for granted, not for a second, and no less important. Always know that. Then, now, and always, all three of my boys are my collective heartbeat.

And so, along this same line, I need to thank you for all the little moments you gave me throughout our years together, to make sure I didn’t feel like #2 either. It would have been easy enough for you to favor your Dad — your wingman. But you gave me all those times you jumped up onto the sofa to sleep beside me while I was reading; the times when I couldn’t sleep in the middle of the night and got up to get some work done, when you followed me into the office and curled up at my feet until I was ready for us to return to bed (often as the sun was rising); when it was just you and me, while Galileo spent the day at Spot to get in some playtime, and we’d go for long walks in the park and, in good weather, we’d just find a bench where we could sit together quietly. And the snuggling moments: most nights, you preferred to sleep on your dog bed in the bedroom; but sometimes, when you chose to come up onto the bed with us, in the morning you’d move from your spot near the foot of the bed to snuggle up to my side. You’d let me hug you like a teddy bear and we’d both stay in bed a little longer than usual.

Finally, I want to thank you for the last few mornings we had together. You were restless and wanting to go out for walks in the very early pre-dawn hours, around 4am. The first week of November, the weather was just starting to turn, but it was still a lot milder than it could have been for the time of year. On those last mornings, you specifically came to my side of the bed, for me to take you outside.

And so I would dress quickly and take you downstairs into the streets — pretty much empty, save some early-morning delivery trucks, or the bakers and bagel makers in the neighborhood. In that quiet, we walked and I sang. I sang your song to you, and I sang Christmas carols because I knew you wouldn’t make it to the holiday season. After walking in the grassy trails on Riverside Drive, you’d pull at the corner to go the one block up to Broadway. So we would go. And then you’d get tired, and I’d pick you up and keep singing as I walked us back home and back to bed. In my arms, you were my baby and, at the same time, you were an old man.

In everything that’s light and gay, I’ll always think of you that way…

There was as much fun and playfulness about you as there was tenderness, Otis. As far as playing went, you weren’t into toys as much as you were into clothes, but there are a couple of favorite memories I will carry with me that really highlight your playful nature. First, when you and Pushkin first bonded and he was still young and healthy, I remember the two of you running around the apartment with Billy Pilgrim, the pilgrim stuffed pet toy that was gifted to Pushkin back in his own New York days. It was the one toy you ever played with and, after Pushkin died, every once in a while you fished it out of Galileo’s toy bucket and just lay with it between your paws with your chin resting on top. I wondered then whether you were missing your older brother and whether holding Billy gave you comfort.

My second Playful Otis memory is one of you teaching a puppy Galileo how to play. You would roll with him and stay there on your back while the little tyke wrestled with you — all in ultra-slow motion. It was fascinating to watch because it seemed you knew just how gentle you needed to be, and also that you were aware you were teaching him. This was not unlike the time in the middle of the night when I was standing out in the backyard in the moonlight with your brother, who couldn’t have been more than ten-weeks old at the time. I was urging Galileo to do his business after he’d gotten me out of bed with his barking to be let outside. But once we went into the yard, he just looked up at me with his little freckled face, completely puzzled. He didn’t know what to do or where to do it yet. And then you entered the scene, walking in your lion-esque way, slowly and deliberately. First you came towards me and looked up; then you walked over to Galileo and looked at him. You took a few steps over to a shrub, lifted your leg, and proceeded in a very dignified fashion to demonstrate. Once finished, you looked back at G, then me, then just as slowly — majestically — went back to bed. The fact was — I told you this all the time while you were still on the planet, too — you were an excellent little brother to Pushkin and an excellent big brother to Galileo. Playful and protective with both.

I’ll find you in the morning sun…

Above all my dear one, I always will remember how jubilant you were. Yes, that’s the perfect word for you, from your wordsmith mother. Jubilant. Often, all it took was my walking through the door. You’d run up to me and start bounding off your front legs, like a little pogo stick. And your smile. Your smile was the sunshine and the moonlight and all the lights of all the other planets and stars bunched up together.

Yesterday was your DAY 49 — the final day, according to the Tibetan Buddhists, that your spirit might possibly still be navigating The Between. So after a long journey — for you, and for us as a family as we’ve been riding the waves of grief and praying for you each day — today, we CELEBRATE your great spirit. We started the day with a special meditation and brought a bunch of stuffed pet toys, a box of treats, and one of your dog beds to Animal Care & Control on 110th Street (which, in a nice twist, was the place responsible years ago for sending me to Bideawee, where I met Pushkin). In your honor, a few homeless pups still waiting for a forever home will have a little brighter Christmas. For the rest of the day and evening, we’ll be playing happy big band music and Christmas songs (likely, there will be some dancing around the living room), we’ll light a candle in church at tonight’s mass, and we’ll raise our glasses in a toast to you at the start of our holiday meal. Hey Otis! Hey noble spirit we call Otis! Fly with Pushkin and the angels, and have fun! We love you!

Earlier this week, your Dad, Uncle Dan, and I went to Cleopatra’s Needle to catch some jazz. Very talented musicians on stage. Piano. Drums. Upright bass. So what an opportunity it was to sit in with them. I got behind the mic for the sole purpose of singing just one song — your song. And I made sure to sing your name (that I add to the lyrics) loud and clear. I can’t know for sure whether you hear my words, or just feel the vibrations of my voice traveling to you from across the universe. Or maybe you were right there at the foot of the stage, though my human eyes can’t see you. But I know you’re here. I know you’re listening. And I know my love reaches you because the connection we have is forever.

And when the night is new

I’ll be looking at the moon, Otis

But I’ll be seeing you.

Love,

Mom