Dear Merris,

I fell in love with you on the internet. You had the cutest face, and the most beautiful mismatched eyes. When we went to meet you you snuggled right up to us and the lady you had been living with told us that you had never done that before. We needed you, and you needed us, and we became a family. We brought you home and you immediately took charge of making sure that we were safe, and that everyone who came near our house (even if they were walking on the other side of the street) knew that you were in charge. Your barking scared everybody. You let the boys know what was up by herding Jon and Chris. You barked like a ferocious beast and then laid around like a cat.

You warmed up to Daniel quickly. You never really nipped at his heels, you just sort of accepted him. You guys played together, and you barked at him whenever he touched me. He liked to take you out on the back porch and brush your hair for you, and you liked it too. You two would have conversations when he thought nobody was listening, and if he knew someone was listening, he didn't care. I called you his "Other girlfriend" and told people that it would seem as if he was the one who brought you into our family because of how close the two of you were. I got after him for egging you on and making you chase him around the house. I'm glad that you loved him and that he loved you so very much. Today he kept calling you "Doggie" like a little boy, when he knew you were going. He cried. He keeps crying. We all do.

The people next door are having a party or something. They parked their cars in front of our house and nobody's here to tell them they shouldn't have done that, even though they never listen. Their dogs are outside, barking and running around with their tags jingling. You're not by the back door barking to be let out so that you can tell them who was here first.

I'm sitting at the computer and there's nobody nudging at my foot asking me to pet her.

I dropped food on the floor and had to pick it up myself.

I sent Lora to have dinner with her dad tonight, and when she got home, nobody met her at the door. She made it all the way to the kitchen without being barked at, so she called for you and you didn't answer. She asked me where you were and I told her what had happened. I tried to make it sound as un-awful as possible. I told her that when people know they are sick and ready to die, sometimes they will plan how they want to go because they know that death is a part of life, and they'd rather go peacefully in a happy setting than have it be a surprise. I told Lo that you had a wonderful day, playing with Daniel who loved you so much, chasing each other around on the mountain, and you must have just thought life couldn't get much more perfect and decided not to come home. I'm glad you were happy, and I'm glad you weren't alone when you went. I am sad though, that Lo and I didn't get to say goodbye to you in person.

Lora cried and cried when I told her you weren't alive anymore. I held her and rocked her and wiped away both of our tears.

Things are so quiet. Your bed is over there, empty. The rug you adopted even though I tried to teach you that you weren't allowed to lay on it is at my feet, empty ('cept the fur you left on it). Your food is still on the kitchen floor where you spilled it, and your dishes are the way you left them. I might clean all of your stuff up tomorrow, but it makes me sad and I am not quite sure what to do with all of it.

We know you loved us and we hope you know that we loved you too. You kept us safe and made us laugh (and yell, and roll our eyes). We will miss you.