A Tribute to My Loyal Friends

The loss of a beloved pet is nearly as painful as the loss of a family member. Let’s face it—our canine best friends are faithful in a way few others are. They greet us with joy, comfort us in despair, never judge us, and always give the best of themselves. They bring out the best in us, too. A loyal friend until the end.

The hardest part of living with a dog is knowing that their life is far too short. When they pass away, it leaves a kind of emptiness that isn’t just felt—it’s heavy. It aches. Sometimes, it’s overwhelming.

Over the years, I’ve lost too many loyal friends. The first was a toy poodle named Chrissy, a gift from my grandparents when I was just five years old. She was my first love. We shared a deep bond, and she became my anchor through the chaos of childhood. Chrissy hugged me through my parents' divorce, slept beside me when I was scared of the dark, and patiently endured all the baby doll clothes and make-believe games I made her a part of. She was a soul-seeker. I remember shutting my bedroom door, looking into her eyes, and begging her to talk to me—because, in my young heart, I believed she could.

She passed away while I was in college. My mom called to tell me. That was the first real heartbreak I remember. And sadly, it was not the last.

Then came Nikki, another toy poodle another soul-seeker, full of life and loyalty. She helped me raise my children, following them around the house, cleaning up every crumb and comforting us all with her sweet spirit. I learned to speak dog through her patient teachings. She would tell me things like, I need to go out, I need water, something is wrong with a child (my early sickness detector) She passed away on one of the most bittersweet days of my life—the same day my youngest child was born. It wasn’t until the house was quiet, full of the cries of a newborn but missing the pitter-patter of paws, that I realized how much Nikki had helped me.

Years later, Jubi came into our lives. Her name was short for "jubilee," and she truly lived up to it. She brought joy, energy, and love into our home, especially bonding with my middle son. Jubi became the reason I started breeding. Through her, I experienced new life and learned so much. She had three litters and gave us all so much love.

One cold winter morning, Jubi went outside in our fenced yard like she always did. When I called her back in just five minutes later, she wasn’t there. That wasn’t like her—Jubi was always ready to come inside. I knew something was wrong. I ran out into the dark, and I found her lying on her side on our hill. I called her name. She raised her head, looked at me with those same soul-seeking eyes, and in that gaze, I swear I heard her say, "I waited for you." Then she took her last breath in my arms.

The pain of their passing doesn’t fade easily, but neither does the love they gave. Each one of these dogs left paw prints on my heart. Their lives were short, but their love was endless. I carry them with me—always.

The leash hangs still by the old back door,

No jingling tags, no scratch on the floor.

Your bed untouched, your bowl bone-dry,

Yet I still half-turn when the wind sighs by.

You came like laughter on padded feet,

Tail wagging truth, eyes soft and sweet.

Years passed like days in your loyal gaze—

Golden mornings, dusky haze.

You knew no greed, no spite, no guile,

Just simple joy in every dog smile.

A bark, a nudge, a quiet lean,

You made the hardest moments clean.

I held you close when the time had come,

Heart cracking slow like a muted drum.

You looked at me with trust so deep,

Then left me there alone to weep.

The world moves on, as it always will,

But some rooms echo too deep, too still.

And sometimes, late, I hear you near—

A phantom patter I ache to hear.

You were more than dog, more than friend,

A soul who stayed until the end.

Now gone, but never far from me—

In dreams, in walks, in memory.