Rest well my little friend. I know that you are with God. You have given us so much…you loved us unconditionally, and I hope you knew that you were well loved. Your pain has ended, but our hearts are broken.

When you entered our lives in 1997 as a wriggling little clump of black and white fur, we could have never imagined how much we would grow to love you. You showed us unconditional love, and you taught us so much about stoic bravery, as you had your share of setbacks during your life. From having melanocytoma in your right eye in 2006, and having it removed…to having pancreatitis and nearly dying in 2008, and ending up with diabetes that required 2 shots of insulin per day…to having frightening grand-mal seizures in the summer of 2012…you showed us a peace, courage and a love of life that we will always admire and that will always inspire us.

I am certain that you were sent to us because God knew that you would teach us great humility and patience…and He knew that we would stick by you in thick and thin. We hope that God wills that we will see you again when we end our journeys here on Earth. It would be a great disappointment and heartache not to be able to hold you again and to be in your loving presence.

Rest well my little boy.

One last word of farewell, dear master and mistress.

Whenever you visit my grave, say to yourselves with regret

but also happiness in your hearts at the remembrance

of my long happy life with you: “Here lies one who loves us and whom we loved.”

No matter how deep my sleep I shall hear you,

and not all the power of death can keep my spirit from wagging a grateful tail.

Eugene O’Neill