Amie.

Amie.

My little puppy Amie was very special. A very kind and playful dog. She loved everyone. The same moment that she put her oversized paws on the pavement of our street, she ran to greet anyone who was standing there and if they’d let her, she’d lick their feet or hands and climb in for a hug. She loved children and playing with them. Even when they fell over her and screamed and ran like a chaotic whole lot. She would play in the sand and run around forever, she lived her life almost as if she knew that it would be short. When she ran to get a ball we had thrown for her, she’d literally throw herself onto the ball and floor, she jumped onto sand hills, swam in the stormy see and climbed over little obstacles we had build for her, sometimes she would get bruises and cuts but did not care. She ran, jumped into the mud leaving her shiny coat stripy, even knowing she would have a cold shower afterwards and making us having a bath with her, she still knew she would get a towel drying lap hug afterwards and lived every second she had, she enjoyed every day up to the last minute and she lived the life like a pure happy spirit. With her whole energy of bundled up love and joy.

Every morning, she was there. Waiting patiently and jumped and her little tail went almost like a helicopter propeller. Throwing her love onto us the second we woke up until the minute we went to sleep. Even followed me to the bathroom door when I took a shower waiting patiently at the door with her deep, loving, true, patient brown eyes.

When she got sick, she seemed to feel guilty when we had to clean after her  vomit and diarrhea. She observed us cleaning, looking at me with sad eyes, letting her head hang down and she tried to hide. But I didn t let her believe that she had to take a distance from us. I talked to her and she returned, still sad, but almost immediately wanting to climb onto my lap. I had her with me until the last moment. Even if I had to have up to 5 showers a day. But she realized after a few days, that nothing would separate her from me. So she stopped hiding and waited patiently for me while I cleaned what needed to be cleaned and then looked at me, waiting for me to invite her to sit beside me or on my lap.

In her last days, she stayed within 1m distance of me. No matter what I did, if I cooked or cleaned, she was there. As I was with her. 24/7. And most of the time, when invited or called, immediately climbed on my lap, whether I was sitting on the sofa or on the hammock. A real hammock dog. That’s how she lived her life. Not caring about anything but life, love, action and living those three.

She inspired me to live the very moment until her last minute. I had barely slept 4h tonight, when I felt I had to get up and look after her to give her some water and try to get her eat some liquid food. She was there. Waiting. Looking at me with her faithful eyes. Trying to lift her tail to greet me, using all the force she had left. I felt sick inside, but tried to cheer her up until the last minute. We went to the living room and sat down for some cuddles. I gave her water with a syringe which she had even more difficulty to gulp than the days before. She walked around me with weak feet and pressed her body against my back. Then she stood on her weak feet, using all her tiny strength and force to lift her head up and she looked at me. One intense look full of love. Then she climbed onto my lap and laid her head on my knee to rest. While I was softly patting her back, a few seconds later she collapsed. Her body went limp. Blood streamed out. And she died. She was a fighter from the start. And she wanted to make me happy and show her deep love until her last breath.

I love her so much. She will be with me, whereever I go. Forever.

Those are the last pictures I took of her. On 14 March, one day before she fell ill.