by McKenna Lowe
I can still remember the spark you had in your eye when you saw me coming toward your kennel at the end of the row at the animal shelter. Everyone else was distracted by the puppies at the front. But I came straight to you and I just knew you were mine.
I was six years old when we adopted you, my first dog.
I can’t believe that seventeen years later, you’re gone. You sure had a hell of a will to live, and I know you hid so much of your pain. You were always so strong.
I hope you and Sage are up there together now, running around in big fields and chasing lots of squirrels.
Love // M