My old friend,

we've known each other for 8 years now. Quite a tough adjustment when you first came into my life; two strong personalities clashed, and many were the times I agonized and wondered if we were right for each other. As time went on, and we learned each other's ways, I grew to wish that I'd known you all of your life. You're fiercely loyal, you love without pretense or judgement or shame, and you would lay down your life for me. I think you know that I would do the same for you.

We've suffered the lean times together and we've grieved together, but we've had many more good times than bad. We've had walks in the park, and walks in the woods. When those weren't enough, you'd open the door while I was at work, and you'd let yourself and Gunner out to take a walk on your own. The phone call would come, from the police or the neighbors. I'd drop everything and search frantically for you, and find you trotting casually down the double yellow line of a busy road, not a care in the world: "Oh, hi. Just out for a walk. What the heck are all these cars doing behind me?"

You earned your reputation as a canine garbage can, performing (what I can only imagine were) acrobatic feats to move food from shelves and counters, and yes - even the closed refrigerator -into your bottomless pit of a gut. There were times that I couldn't even muster up the gumption to get pissed off, because it was just so... funny. Food wrappers strewn everywhere, refrigerator door still hanging open, emptied of all but lettuce, and one guilty looking pair of brown eyes staring up at me as if to say: "I know. You're mad. But it was sooooo worth it! p.s. Can you let me out now? My tummy feels a little weird."

We've held on through Addison's Disease, which almost killed you, and two cruciate repair surgeries. Now we're fighting a much bigger battle: time. I am picking up on signs that something isn't quite right; your hindquarters are damp because you're licking and worrying on that area all the time. You seem to be enjoying your naps a lot more frequently than before, and when have I ever had to coax you to eat? All subtle signs that maybe someone else wouldn't notice; but, my friend, we've been together too long for me not to notice.

Know this: I'm with you. I'm with you to the end. As long as you show me an inkling of happiness, every day is going to be yours to grab by the cojones and hang on as only you know how. You're going to eat eggs and chicken and ground beef and rice. We're going to play Tennis Ball and we're going to snuggle on the floor together. We're going to sit in the sun together. When all of that doesn't seem to make you happy any more, or the bad days greatly outnumber the good, we'll talk some more, and you'll tell me what you want me to do. Until then, the day is ours.
Love you, Ol' Biddy.