I remember before you were mine, when you were someone else’s. Even though we were not yet your family you still came here for refuge, and we accepted you. We helped you find your way back home until, eventually, you were home.

I remember when you were still not mine, I was sad when the pound took you. I was scared you were going to be left for dead. Sure enough, you were. Your previous owners never came to get you.

Dad came home one day, he said he had received a call. The dog he had helped the pound catch was going to be put down. We got in the car and visited you. You were feisty, full of life, and a little stubborn. In other words, you were finally free to be yourself, even if you were a tad uncontrollable at first.

Mom was the last member of the family to get on board, but nobody could resist your slightly lazy puppy dog eyes. We went to go get you. We got you from the vet after you were fixed. Dad had joked about naming you Brutus, but that became your new name. You weren’t a brute though, not like everyone thought you were. You became my baby boy.

Mom already had Tripp, and Dad already had Murphy, I still needed a dog. Even though Max was my childhood pet he was getting older. Maximus was playing and coming to my room less. That was where I needed you. You were always outside with me, rain or shine. I recall how you couldn’t really run for the first year. Your stride was awkward. But you ended up being able to sprint just like any other dog, especially when you ran away.

Just like Max you always tried to get out. I will never forget when I was walking you out back with a leash and you climbed the fence right in front of me. I was speechless. You dug under the gate to get out. You figured out how to open multiple gates. No matter what obstacles were put in you way you managed to escape. Hence my nickname for you, the Houdini Winnie.

Finally, you started to give up leaving when your legs started hurting. You tore both knees. You received surgery for both of your knees. We had to lift your legs with a towel to carry you up and down the hill while you were recovering. Your head in the cone was heartbreaking, but also incredibly adorable.

Perhaps what I will remember the most is when I would sing to you. Whenever you needed to relax I would sing. At first, I simply hummed a tune when you ate part of my mattress. Then I sang you the full version of “You are my sunshine.” Finally, I came up with a song that was specifically for you.

You are Brutus. You are the cutest dog around. You are my one and only hound. You are Brutus. You are the cutest. You are the bestest, by far the messiest. You’re my pooch. You’re my pup, the only thing in my life with luck. You’re my baby, and I love you. I put nobody else above you. You are Brutus. You are the cutest dog around.

I will remember your entire, extended, and full life before I remember the day I went to check on you and you were gone, dead. You are still in my heart as my only sunshine, my baby boy.

Rest in peace, Sunshine.

Love, Momma