Dear Rory,

I got twelve and a half years with you by my side, and even twelve and a half more wouldn’t have felt like enough.

You were with me when I moved out on my own for the first time, when I moved across the country to my future husband’s hometown, when we moved back across the country to mine. You were there with us in the chapel the day we got married and waiting at the door the day we brought our first baby home from the hospital, and then our second, and then our third.

My heart breaks at the thought of no longer hearing your paws scamper across the floor, seeing your tail wagging at the door every time we come home, and watching you sprint after tennis balls in the backyard.

You’ve been loyal, you’ve been mischievous, and you’ve been the best buddy through every chapter a girl can go through in her twenties and thirties. Some people said it was a mistake to get a puppy on the brink of moving to New York City at 22, but twelve and a half years and many moves later, I know it’s the best one I’ve ever made.

I hope heaven has lots of treats and tennis balls. We will love you and miss you always.

Love,

Kenzie