On Easter Sunday, April 4th, 2010, my beloved Bichon-Poo of nearly 18 years, died at 6 pm.

Around 5 pm, she'd had a terrible seizure that lasted for 10 minutes.  We'd witnessed a couple of shorter episodes in previous months, but she'd always seemed to recover. 

This time, we just knew, as she whimpered, that Sophie had lived a long, full life and it was time to ease her pain.

Since it was a holiday, our vet office was closed, so we took her to an emergency veterinarian in Waltham.  The staff was very kind and understanding as we raced through the doors. Sophie was wrapped in a white towel, as I'd tried to swaddle and calm her on the ride over.

They took her in back where they attached the IV port and met us in a closed lounge room with a couple of grey couches, lamps and wooden side tables with boxes of kleenex.

They offered us as much time as we needed. I made a call to someone who I knew would want to say "goodbye" to Sophie. 

Sophie's breathing was labored, punctuated with the heartbreaking whining.

The doctor peeked her head into the room to ask if we were ready. I wanted Sophie to be at ease, relaxed, at peace. 

I nodded my head. While the vet got the medications, I said a last goodbye to my little "Sophia".

"You were always nearby," I began, "Through every move to a new home or city. You listened when I needed to talk and looked in my eyes as though you knew. 

You were the best, little dog I ever had. I love you, Soph, I'll always miss you. Go in peace, sweet friend."

The thing that's incredible is how fast it happens. First, there's the sedative, which goes into the IV. Sophie laid her head down on my lap and for the first time in so long, she relaxed, really relaxed. Then, it was followed by the liquid that would euthanize her instantly. The doctor put her stethoscope up to Sophie's chest and announced somberly, "She's gone."

I almost couldn't believe it. Her soft, white fur was still warm on my lap- the small, bulk of her laying relaxed.

Here's to you, Soph, the one with the personality- the dog who sang and twirled around with joy for a little piece of chicken or a cocktail weenie dog biscuit. You, who always greeted me first and smiled with sparkling, black eyes. You, who loved me no matter what or when or where.

I will miss you always.