Dear Lexi,

I treasured every moment that I had with you, from the day I accompanied my dogs, Chester and Marshall, to greet you in late 2004, until tonight, when I let you go as the sun was setting.

We had a lot of good times together, and I will especially miss how you danced for your dinner when you were a bit younger. In the last couple of months, you needed help getting up, but you never lost your enthusiasm for meal time. I just wished I fed you a huge breakfast of all your favorite things this morning. I didn't realize that it would be your last day, and I wish we had done some things together, just you and me. However, our last moments together made up for that, I hope, because I gave you as many treats as you wanted. Then the vet entered our car to give you the first shot.

I didn't believe my eyes when you had no function in your back legs this afternoon. It was like they were not a part of you. I somehow got you outside, and then into the car. I knew it was a one-way trip. I heard you panting in the back and hoped you were not in pain. I also hoped you enjoyed the balmy air and the car ride. Perhaps you knew where we were going and why.

As you drifted off with the drugs they gave you before the final shot that would give you back to all your friends at Rainbow Bridge, I saw you looking at something. Did you see them already lining up to greet you? I hope so, as your ending was so quick and peaceful.

I cannot forgive the people who gave you up, a senior dog who was perfect in every way, because they had their sixth child. Where's the logic in that? They were ugly people, and I hope they can't sleep at night because they are haunted by their guilt. My sorrow is mired in the fact that they betrayed you. You knew we would never do that to you.

I just hope you don't think you were "rescued" as if you were flotsam on a sea of sadness. You were meant for us, my sweet dancing girl. I am grateful you came to us, at least briefly. I know you will be dancing in the stars forever.

I'll be looking for you.

Goodbye for now, my dear Lexi.
May 22, 2007