I had to write this retroactively because at the time, it was just too hard.  Even now, two months later, the effect of losing Emma is enormous.

Emma is my best friend. I couldn’t ask for a better dog, for a better companion.  She never held any judgments, she was perpetually happy, and she never stopped trying.

The Sunday before she left us, she used what energy she had left to run and play in the yard, acting like there was nothing wrong — trying to give my parents and I one last moment of joy.  She succeeded.

Her passing changed me.  Changed me in ways I never thought possible.  I could feel her presence with me — I used to lump feelings like this with just a person’s memories and a severe longing to not be alone.  This wasn’t that — feeling Emma’s joy dulled my mourning her, but only a little.  I still miss my little Emma dog and I suspect I always will.  But her legacy was giving me hope, hope that at the other end of my life there’s something more, and a little red dog with a great big heart waiting to see me.

Until then, Em Dog, I’ll be thinking about you everyday.  I love you.