8/21, 7:40am. I don’t know how I’ll go without Fio. I feel horrible, sick, anger— I’m in shock and I keep replaying her last breath over and over and over.

Fio, we created a routine together. I’m so used to your paws hitting the ground following me everywhere, even in the restroom. I’m so sorry this happened. I’m so sorry you struggled at the very end. I didn’t want you to continue fighting if it cost you your personality and joys. It’s almost like you knew hours before that it was the end. We packed to get you to the vet to say our final goodbye, this was the second try. You stood at the top of the steps and took everything in. From the trees, the sky, and squirrels and birds, I knew you were paying close attention in a new way. You usually are hyper aware, keeping your attention to everything, but this time you starred at your sis Ramen and your other best friend in the distance. I didn’t give you enough hugs and kisses to make me feel fulfilled. But the amount of kisses and snuggles you gave me I’ll hold onto forever. There’s honestly never been a dog like you, and there never will be. I can confidently say, you were the bestest friend I’ll ever have. Can’t wait for you to guide me to the afterlife.

Thank you everyone who has been here throughout the journey. Im so sorry the journey was always a bit dark and I didn’t show her off to you guys when she was happy and healthy. I honestly don’t know how I’ll go with my days. Especially working from home, she would sit right next to me and look out the window and then turn and stare at me. Now, it’ll be a long journey for my recovery. I love you Fio. Thank you for the best life you’ve given me.