Dear Roxanne Smarty Pants,You were a 7 month old puppy when I met you at Petsmart on the West side of Cincinnati. You were surrendered to a rescue with your brother from another litter, Nicholas. My friend Katie volunteered at the rescue and asked me if I'd be interested in fostering you. She told me your first mother, Patricia Tobin, had cancer and couldn't care for you. I felt compelled to meet you and did lots of research on Great Pyrenees. You were a 60 pound ball of white fur. Yep, one look and it was love.
We took training your first year. You barked the whole time. I remember the Boston terrier mom thinking you were going to eat her. Up until a month ago, you could sit, shake, lay down, and roll over like a champ. We were still working on stay.
I loved when we used to go everywhere together: Fourth of July at the Rohman's, hiking in Red River Gorge and the dog park. You know I kissed your papa for the first time at that dog park.
I loved to brush you. I loved that you wanted to escape, but always found your way home. I loved how people looked at you in awe and couldn't resist you. I loved your snoring, sighs, flops and random "whoop woo whoop whoop whoop." I loved that you were so big, but so scared of thunder. I loved your bark, even at night, no matter what anyone else says. I loved how you leaned up against me. Every time I looked in your eyes, I felt loved and protected. It's weird, but I always felt you were grateful I adopted you.
I know you stayed strong this past year to protect me and our girls. I think it took everything you had left. I am so sad to have lost you. You are my best friend. We were together before I knew myself, met my husband or had children: 10 years, 2 months. And 20 minutes ago, you left my life. I held you, paws on my lap, head in my arms and sobbed as we said goodbye. I hope you are running again, through a field of flowers. You are a beautiful soul.
All my love,
Mama
