On November 27, 2012, we eagerly and joyfully welcomed 7-month-old Missy Alden to our home. On March 27, 2026 at 9:30am, with hearts full of sorrow, we said good-bye.
Thirteen years and four months with this sweet, silly, independent, sometimes bratty, people-loving, worm-eating pup who made us laugh and brought joy into our life every day.
In 13 years, you create countless memories with your dog. All the little things they do, the quirks and traits they have that endear you, frustrate you but always make your day bright and joyful.
I started jotting down the little moments with our first dog Ginger. We had her for almost 12 years before losing her quickly to cancer. Even now, 14 years later, I read the little notes and stories about our sweet, snuggle bunny Ginger, and it all comes back to me like yesterday.
I did the same thing with Missy, kept notes, and I could list the hundreds of sweet and silly Missy things that made Missy unique. But three things stand out. Three things that brought Missy the most joy.
First there were people. Missy adored people - all people. It didn't matter if you were coming to our house to fertilize the lawn, drop by for a visit or check the HVAC system; Missy eagerly and enthusiastically greeted everyone at the front door. She loved everyone and had the confidence to believe the feeling was mutual. And it was - Missy made friends with everyone.
Missy and I went for walks through our neighborhood multiple times a day. Missy loved her walks, partly for the smells and the dried worms (more on that later), but mostly for the possibility that she would see a friend. In our community of 75 homes, there was always a good chance that Missy would encounter a friend ready to give her ear scratches, belly rubs and plenty of attention. Whenever we headed out, Bill never knew if it would be a 5 of 45 minute walk - it all depended on who we saw and how much attention Missy required. Everyone loved and welcomed sweet Missy, and she would get so excited to go see her friends.
Next up was her love for dried worms. Yep, this sweet little goofball loved eating dried worms - the kind that dried on your driveway overnight. Charming trait isn't it! The first thing I did was check with our primary vet to make sure it was not harming her. He assured us that as long as they were simple earthworms and definitely dead, it was weird - but perfectly fine.
Missy's worm eating was well-known in Bushfork. In fact, she often got tips from her friends about where to find the best worms. In all these years, I never figured out her criterial for deciding which worms were worth eating. She would smell the worm, sometimes pass it by, or decide it was a good one and worthy of eating. They all looked the same to me - gross. The crunching sound and the sight of a dried worm dangling out of her mouth was something I just had to accept as a quirky Missy thing.
Soon, it became hard for her to turn onto her back and we knew something was wrong. The past year has been a rough one for Missy. Multiple vet visits and multiple options to try to manage her pain and anxiety. She was mostly deaf and was limited in her vision. She was 14 and her body was getting tired.
When she no longer wanted to go for walks and would snap or bite if we tried to put the leash on her or approached her the wrong way, we knew we had a hard decision ahead. We knew that we did not want to medicate her further, keeping her in a sedated state would simply not be fair to this sweet girl.
We wanted someone to come to the house for her transition, we knew that taking her to the vet’s office would have caused her too much stress, and we couldn’t put her through that. We contacted Lap of Love and set an appointment for March 27th. It sounds so final to write it, but it was by no means an easy decision. We discussed it at length, and I kept hoping she’d have a good day again, but she didn’t—every day was just another bad one. We didn’t want to repeat what happened with Ginger, rushing around with a hurting, anxious dog trying to find help. I made an appointment, canceled it, made another and kept it. I wasn’t 100% sure, but the truth is, you never can be. In the end, it was about making a decision and doing what we felt was best for Missy. By having her euthanized at home, we believed we were giving her the peaceful, dignified transition she deserved. She could be in her room, in her favorite spot on the bed in the morning sun. Our decision was made out of love and compassion, doing the best we could for a dog who trusted us her whole life to do the right thing.
My sweet Missy always needed to know where I was, and over the past few months, especially in her last week, she became much more anxious about this. Whether we were at home or outside, she'd constantly come to check that I was exactly where she left me. She'd find me, I would say, "I see you", and she'd go off again for another five or ten minutes, then return again.
In those last few hours with her, I softly stroked her head and told her how deeply she was loved and how much we would miss her. I assured her that she will always know where to find me. I told Missy that time works differently in Heaven, and before she knew it, she'd look around and see me there smiling and saying "I see you".
"Are not two sparrows sold for a farthing? And one of them shall not fall on the ground without your Father." Matthew 10:29 (KJV)
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