I've been rather quiet the last couple of weeks, allowing a life altering event to catch up with me. You see, while I was busy panicking about the next phase in my life; becoming the mother of all adult children with my youngest turning eighteen and graduating, another very large phase of life caught me off guard and slipped in. My beloved chocolate lab, Toffee, took a turn for the worse, and my family and I made the decision to put her down on June 5th. She would have been 13 today.

We had known for some time she was battling an aggressive form of oral cancer. But besides the tumor in her mouth, she was a very happy and healthy senior dog, which is why we opted for two surgeries over the course of 14 months. We weren't ones to stick our heads in the sand and think she would live forever, but her vet agreed with us that she would do the same if Toffee were hers.

A few weeks ago, though, when Toffee slowly stopped eating and there was nothing more we could do to coax her, we knew 'it' had returned. We also knew there was nothing we could do for her this time. To say our hearts were broken seems to be putting it too mildly.

I'm not confused and thinking that she was human, but she was a very loyal and important part of our family. In many ways she was the glue that bonded us so well. I tried to think of what it was about her that makes me say that. And while there are so many special traits about Toffee, she made it possible to keep the 'L' word alive in our house. From the time my children were small, my husband and I were included in the same affections they proclaimed to Toffee. Each time they left the house, we'd hear, "I love you, Toffee, I love you, Mom and Dad," before the door closed.

I have always thought that I was a compassionate person, but my dog put me to shame here as well. When Toffee was only 1, my sister lost her beloved dog. She came to my house and sat at my kitchen table, devastated, crushed and sobbing. I told her she could stay as long as she wanted, but I didn't know what else to do for her. Toffee did. It was the first of many times since then that I witnessed this as Toffee sat beside her and wrapped her two front legs around my sister's waist. It had to have been pretty uncomfortable for Toffee to stay in that position, but she refused to leave her side. She offered my sister 'touch' that she so desperately needed, something that I couldn't figure out.

Toffee pulled her weight in obedience and loyalty more so than any of our family members. My husband, Officer Buckle, loves nothing more than to do projects about the house, both inside and out...every day. Toffee was his sidekick for these projects, and if she could have held the ladder steady or looked through electrical outlet boxes for signs of tiny wire movement, I would have been out of a job. She followed him inside and out 20 times a day. I wonder if the same can be said about myself?

As I'm sure is true with most dogs, Toffee's tail was an incredible mood indicator. She smiled with her tail, and boy could she smile! She was the meeter and greeter at our front door, welcoming all guests who entered, and thrived in the attention and the fact that everyone knew her. But that, too, began to fade in her final days. We wanted to be sure we were doing the right thing...letting her go. We were asking so much of her, though, and the pain was too much for her to smile anymore. So we gathered together as a family to create the courage needed to make the decision. We knew...we all knew...it was just so very difficult. Her final days were spent with those who knew and loved her, saying goodbye. Her life impacted so many, and she had accumulated numerous friends in her years, both human and animal.

So on this day, June 20th, which would have been your 13th birthday, I bid a public farewell to my good and loving friend...one of God's best creations. I miss everything about you, from your warm welcome at the door, to the jingle of your tags, to your crazy wiggling on your back, and your constant companionship. I miss seeing your beautiful brown pillow and your beautiful brown chocolate coat...all over the house. I know our pain has and will continue to subside, but wow, were we blessed! I miss you like crazy, Toffee...yeah, crazy.

The Silver Side of Life