Today was supposed to be simple—Buffy’s dental procedure, nothing more. But life rarely goes as planned. Before beginning, Dr. Mac trusted her instincts and ordered labs. The results revealed something none of us were ready for: advanced kidney failure. Anesthesia was too risky. The choice before us was painful, yet clear—we chose love over holding on, and let Buffy go gently, before suffering could dim her light.

I drove to Robbie’s school, knowing he would want to stand beside her. In the car, his voice wavered but his heart was steady: “I want to be the one to hold her when she goes to heaven.” I gave him that sacred honor. Afterward, I told him how proud I was of his courage and compassion. His reply will stay with me forever:

✨ “I know how it feels not to be loved or cared for, and I don’t want any animal of mine to feel that way. It’s only sad for us when they go to heaven—it’s a happy day for them.”

For those who don’t know, Robbie spent years in foster care before finding a forever home with us. Maybe that’s why he has such a tender heart for senior dogs—his beloved “old people.” He knows too well the ache of waiting, of wondering if love will ever come. Once, he looked at me and said: “If all you wanted was a baby, you would have never gotten me.”

Robbie reminds me often that love isn’t about the length of time, but the depth of connection. “You’ve only known me for two years, but you love me like it’s been forever.”

Yes, my son is extraordinary—wise beyond his years, brave beyond words. And because of him, Buffy’s last moments were filled with warmth, dignity, and unconditional love. She didn’t leave this world alone—she left it held. 💛🌈🐾