We got you when you were just a puppy. I will never forget the day when I came home and saw a fluffy, awkward, ball of love run towards me. Your whole body could fit in the palm of my dad's hand. You were clumsy and curious. In other words, you were perfect and you could melt the heart of even of even the manliest of men.

You grew up quickly, getting bigger and bigger every day. You were also really smart. You figured out the routines of the family, you aligned your internal clock to know when it was time for you to get fed, and you figured out which family members would give you the most attention. Even though you were smart, you could also be dumb sometimes. You ran into walls and got tricked when we pretended to throw your bone during a game of fetch. Sometimes you were such a dog, but that's why we loved you.

You became my biggest fan when I was growing up. After a long day at high school, I could come home to you with your tail going wild and with your tongue out, eagerly trying to lick my face with a slobbery welcome. Sometimes, you were so excited that I was home that you would sprint laps around the house. You unknowingly supported me in other ways as well. I know that you probably couldn't comprehend what I was saying, but you sat there while I complained about my daily struggles and gave me company until I felt better. What more could I ask for?

When I left for college, I immediately began to miss your adorable and loving face. Fortunately, my parents would FaceTime me and just keep the camera on you so that I could say "hey pup." During the summers when I was home, we spent every day together. We took a few trips to the dog park and you sat out on the front porch with me as I read books and watched cars pass.

Then, one day, my dad called. He said that you were sick and that it was something that the veterinarian couldn't fix. It figures a dog with so much love would end up with heart problems. We thought that the medicine would help you and extend your life, but that delusion did not last long. Eventually, you got to the point where you struggled to breathe and lacked the energy for daily activities. We knew that it was time, but how does one willingly decide to say goodbye to a family member?

It was a really hard day saying goodbye to you. You may have been struggling, but you still tried to play with your bone. You still climbed the stairs to try and find me in my room. You still got excited when you saw someone and your tail still wagged. You were my friend for 12 years, over half of my life. You showed me unconditional love and taught me that the only things in life that matter are family and food.

Yes, saying goodbye to you was hard, but I am glad that you no longer have pain. I might also need to convert to Catholicism because I hear that Pope Francis says that dogs go to heaven. I hope that you are happy up there and that you have all of the rawhides that a dog could ask for.

I love and miss you.