That’s what the doctor said to me. A doctor I had just met. A doctor that knew nothing about my medical history. A doctor who didn’t examine me or ask me any questions. I was there because I felt something weird in my abdomen area and that was his response. There was no follow up discussion. No…if this is what you have…this is what we will do. I was dumbfounded and quite speechless. I was given a script for an ultrasound and was sent on my way.

I spent the ENTIRE year of 2023 and the beginning part of 2024 chasing this down. In the beginning, I was filled with so much anxiety about it (thank you menopause for a condition I’ve never had before in my life that now was consuming me). I got help to get the anxiety under control (I did EMDR and highly recommend it), but it did not take away the worry that of course someone might have given these words from a doctor.

I literally gave myself a pep talk every morning. I would remind myself that although my primary doctor didn’t know what was going on, he believed I would have other symptoms if it was cancer. I would remind myself that the doctor who said these words did not take the time to get to know me or my history. But then my brain would go down rabbit trails. So in so had cancer and had no idea because they didn’t have symptoms. Or this doctor is a specialist, so he is used to seeing this and I guess this is what most people have when presenting with this symptom.

It took a year and 3 months to get all of the tests done to rule out cancer. It was months of waiting for doctor appointments to get whatever script I needed for each particular test. Then waiting for availability to get the test done. Then months of waiting for follow-up appointments to get said test results. Then months of waiting for next appointment with next doctor and the rollercoaster just went on..and on…and on. It didn’t help my mental state that I know three people who felt something in their abdomen and it was cancer.

My life was on hold…fingers crossed it’s not stomach cancer. Words matter.

I didn’t feel like I could plan anything because…fingers crossed it’s not stomach cancer. Words matter.

I stressed myself out about getting the training done for our puppy because…fingers crossed it’s not stomach cancer. Words matter.

I felt what was in my abdomen every day…and my brain would say, “something terrible might be wrong with you”…fingers crossed it’s not stomach cancer. Words matter.

A year and 3 months later I still don’t know 100% what is going on…but all of the scary stuff has been ruled out. Words matter.

We’ve had this conversation here before about words and how much they matter. So much so, that I may sound like a broken record (I guess that’s a saying that only my readers of a certain age will get). Smile. But as long as I keep seeing people being hurt by words, I will continue to bring it up.

Something that is very frustrating to me is hearing someone that has a platform lie about the community that is so dear to me. What’s even more frustrating to me is the fact that no one will research what these people are saying. They take what they say as the gospel truth. This is so dangerous. Let’s take Tucker Carlson for example. He is well known for his anti-LGBTQ+ rhetoric. He had guests on his show that falsely claimed that a particular hospital was performing gender affirming surgeries on minors…some as young as two and three. The night the interview was aired that hospital had a bomb threat. The doctors there received so many death threats that the hospital had to hire extra security. These lies could have had dire consequences with many deaths in their wake. These doctors lives were for sure impacted. Words matter.

Recently a non-binary student in Oklahoma was beaten by several students in the bathroom. They died the next day. The report lists the cause of death as suicide, but there has been a lot of debate about that as they wait for the final medical examination. The chatter I have seen about this makes it seem that the fact this student may have taken their life somehow leaves the students that did the beating off the hook. Unfortunately, this scenario of bullying is all too familiar for the LGBTQ+ community. The attitudes of our leaders don’t help any and I would go as far as to say feed the violence. At a legislative forum that took place shortly after that attack, Senator Tom Woods was asked why the legislation has such an obsession with the LGBTQ+ community (right now that state has over 50 bills targeting them). He responded that Oklahoma is a religious state, a moral state and they don’t want that filth (referring to the LGBTQ+ community) in our state. A religious state. Maybe they have forgotten that we are ALL God’s children. I want to know what Bible has Jesus referring to people as filth. Folks, when leaders have this type of attitude and freely speak about it…it’s no wonder this community is being attacked. Words matter.

As I addressed in my last post Six Days, I can’t imagine the cost these words have on the souls of this community. I shudder to think. I have personally seen the damage it does in the people who are no longer walking this earth because they just couldn’t take it any longer. Perhaps Senator Woods should take a look at Romans 8:38. Maybe his religious, moral state needs a reminder that God loves everyone.

What the doctor said to me in my opinion was very careless. He should have never handled my situation that way. It caused me a great deal of distress for an entire year. But at least I had an end in sight. This was about my physical body that I could do something about. The things that are said about the LGBTQ+ community are much more sinister and damaging. Things like being called a groomer, a pedophile, filth, sexual deviant…the list goes on. These words are about their character, their integrity, their souls. It’s so much more damaging. Studies show that the brain registers, focuses, stores, and recalls negative events much more readily than positive ones. This community not only deals with the fallout of the words said against them…they need to deal with the people who then think it’s ok to incite violence against them.

This month I finally have peace about what’s going on in my body. Those words that doctor said to me have finally faded. Thank goodness! I wish it was the same for the community that I love.

Words matter…let’s make sure they convey love…because it matters.

(I am having technical difficulties and needed to publish this post again. I apologize for the repeat)

I remember I had Good Morning America on in the background as I was getting ready for the day. The kids weren’t back to school yet because their school was under construction and it wasn’t finished yet. Kyle had spent the night at a friend’s house and I was getting ready to pick him up. The television caught my attention when they said a plane had flown into one of the towers. At first, the reporters on GMA thought it was a terrible accident. At this time, I was glued to the television just sick over the poor people in that plane and in that building. I will never ever forget the image of seeing that second plane coming in and crashing into the other tower. It was then that we all realized this was no accident. As I’m sure you have gathered, I am referring to 9/11. As I have been reflecting on that day, I am so saddened where this country is right now in regard to how we treat our fellow Americans. Where is our kindness? Where is our fierce solidarity? Our politicians need to get their act together and learn how to find common ground. We need to stop listening to the radicals on both sides of the fence that are trying to divide us just to get elected again. The lies they spew are unnecessary fuel to the fires that pit us against one another. If you can’t get elected with decency, then you don’t deserve the office you hold onto so tightly. Enough is enough!

That was my Facebook post on the anniversary of 9/11 this year. Since we are coming up on an election year, opinions are loud and the bickering is sickening. It seems that most politicians feel that they need a common enemy with the people in order to get elected. This isn’t new…I just never realized it was so prevalent until I was close to a marginalized group that was targeted. Right now, one of those groups is the LGBTQ+ community with a concentration on trans and non-binary people.

I promise this isn’t a political post. I fear I would be tuned out if I made it political. Instead, this is a post about the human heart and mind.

Did you know that in 2023 there have been over 520 anti-LGBTQ+ bills introduced in state legislatures. A record number. Over 220 bills specifically targeted trans and non-binary people…also a record. A record 70 anti-LGBTQ+ bills have been enacted so far this year. I want you imagine living in a world where your existence is being challenged, fought against, and then put into law to the point where you can’t exist. What do you think that would do to your soul? What do you think it would do to your mind…your heart?

Imagine living in a state that suddenly has a LAW that prohibits you from getting the care you need for your transgender child. Imagine having to sell your house, leave your job and your extended family, to move to another state that doesn’t have said law. For how long? Could that state follow suit? Where does it end? What burden does that child carry because their family had to uproot everything they knew to relocate? What stress does that create in the family dynamic? Oh…but the children…we MUST protect them. Really??

If our government deems it necessary and says it protects children, then it must be true. Right? So that breeds ignorance and people who don’t know anything about the subject matter start fighting for it too…regurgitating what they hear even though most of it is unfounded and damaging…and while this is happening their children are absorbing these untruths and attitudes. What might that look like?

This is one example of what that looks like…A 13 year old child who identifies as non-binary was bullied terribly at their school when their classmates found out. Rumors were spread about them. The kids said things to them like, “No one likes you.”, “What’s wrong with you?”, “Don’t talk to us ever again.” The whole class ganged up on them. The last blow was when their best friend told them to kill themselves. Their parents came home to find them cutting themselves in the driveway and then there was a suicide attempt. It took a lot of effort to keep the child alive. I get that as I too have lived it with my child. Thankfully they have been moved from the small school they attended and after some therapy are doing much better.

I have a transgender friend who has gotten countless death threats on social media. Comment after comment rolls in tearing them down explicitly detailing how the person would like them to die.

Fighting for your existence…takes a toll. Being constantly told that who you are is wrong or who you love is wrong…takes a toll. The words that are carelessly tossed like grenades…take a toll.

Imagine being told your father died of Covid because of your “sin of homosexuality.”

Imagine being told you have “a demon of homosexuality” living in you by your mother. Then imagine her slamming you against a glass sliding door in your house while hitting you with a Bible screaming, “I command you to get out of him Satan!” Imagine your every move is monitored to see if you are thinking of “that wicked lifestyle.” Nothing you do is right or good enough and it all leads to you being gay.

And then there are the faces of the kids that came to my tent at the recent Pride event I did that tell me their mothers won’t talk to them. “Can I please have a hug…my mom doesn’t love me anymore.” How is this ok?? How does a mother look at her child and think that is the right stance to take? You know the saying that people will kiddingly say when they do something mischievous…”the devil made me do it!” Sadly, this disowning of children is coming from people saying, “God wants me to do it.”

I learned about something recently that was really fascinating to me, and at the same time I found horrifying.

IKEA did a public service announcement ad called “Bully A Plant.” It was some time ago, but I had never heard of it. It’s only 2 minutes and 17 seconds long and you can watch it here. In case you think that was a fluke, here’s a middle school girl who did the same kind of experiment. It’s also short and you can watch it here. And in case you think it’s just stupid luck to get the same results, here’s a sciency (yes I made up that word spell check – leave me alone) explanation from actual scientists that also did the experiment:

INTERNATIONAL JOURNAL OF INNOVATIVE RESEARCH IN TECHNOLOGY Vol 8, Issue 1, June 2021 Deepika Choube, Shubham Sharma Department of Psychology, Doon University, Dehradun, India “Plant seeds under the influence of the positive words had a higher germination rate, and these plants grew taller, larger, and healthier than [those] in the negative environment.”

For those of you who won’t watch the videos, here is a brief explanation. If you did watch them, you can move on to the next paragraph (smile). In all of the instances, two identical plants were put into the same environment with the same amount of light and water. One plant was bullied (students said mean things to the plant), and the other was complimented. The plant that was bullied died in 6 days while the other plant grew and flourished.

Six days and the plant died. Six days. I shudder to think of what is happening in the bodies, minds, and hearts of LGBTQ+ individuals that deal with bullying, discrimination, death threats, and laws enacted against them. I shudder to think of how their souls, their minds, and their hearts hurt each day as they fight to exist. As I stated in my first paragraph, where has the love of our fellow Americans gone? As we fight each side so hard to “make America great again” do we see that we are trampling our very own people in the process. Precious souls created in the image of God. Surely God must weep.

A person marrying someone of the same sex does not hurt you.

A person changing their name does not hurt you.

A person asking to be called by a pronoun does not hurt you.

But…not allowing these things, or dismissing these things, or refusing to do these things just may be killing them. Six days. These kids are our future.

It may be time to put aside how you think someone should live their lives and instead accept them for who they tell you they are inside. If six days can do this to a plant, what must six weeks, six months, six years do to a soul. It’s time to love on the LGBTQ+ community. Their lives depend on it.

And love matters…

I figured since I posted about Lucy here (The very best girl) it would be only fitting for me to introduce our new baby here as well.

It’s been a journey so I wanted to share in hopes that it may help someone else along the way. I have missed my Lucy so very much. I still cry every day with different things that remind me of her. Mike has seen me wandering around the house at times. He would ask what I was doing and I really couldn’t answer him. I felt very lost.

Well you know how Facebook is with their algorithms. I posted about Lucy and suddenly I was getting posts about dogs looking for their furever homes. Lots of posts. So many heartbreaking stories and sweet little faces. But I wasn’t ready for another dog…in fact I didn’t see how I could ever get another dog. I just wanted Lucy back. I also didn’t know how I could ever endure the sadness I felt ever again. Not only that, but I didn’t WANT to feel that kind of sadness ever again.

I have been seeing a counselor for some anxiety that I’ve been dealing with since entering menopause (thank you wacked out hormones!). She told me that I have such a kind soul and have so much love to give that I would probably need another dog, but only I would know when I was ready. Well if you’ve been following me for any length of time you know my parents got me a dog when I was four because trying to hug my bird just wasn’t cutting it. (Does someone need a hug). I knew my counselor was probably right, but I don’t know that I would consider myself ever really “ready” to do so.

One of the posts on FB showed that there was going to be an adoption event at the pet store by me. My counselor suggested that I go and just see what it felt like to see other dogs. I scrolled through the pictures of the dogs that they were going to have there. There weren’t any that were really speaking to me, but there was one picture that caught my eye. Mike came home from mens group that Saturday and he asked what was on my agenda for the day. I tried to go while he was out, but I couldn’t bring myself to do it. I told him what my counselor said and he suggested that we go.

We got there and they had a ton of dogs. They were all different sizes, ages, and breeds. We walked around and stopped at each crate. I spotted the little face that I saw on the internet almost immediately. Online the dog was listed as a male named Spearmint, but this was a female named Peppermint. I found out later that Spearmint was her brother and was adopted before the event started. I circled around again and landed at Peppermint’s crate. The volunteer asked if I wanted to hold her. I lifted her out of the crate and she snuggled right up to me and put her little head in the crook of my neck. I held her for about 15 minutes and she just relaxed with me. Mike asked what I wanted to do and I told him that I didn’t know. I didn’t think I was ready. He suggested that we do some shopping at the store in the same shopping center to see how I felt. We did that and decided to go home. The event was Saturday and Sunday so I told him that we could always come back the next day.

The rescue place took pictures of each dog that was adopted with their new family and posted them on their page. I found myself looking all night to see if she had been adopted. Her picture never showed up. We woke up the next day and went to church. After the service, the first thing I did was check FB to see if she showed up. She did not. Mike asked again what I wanted to do and I was so torn. I decided to go down and see if she was still there and thought maybe we could take her outside and play with her a bit. I texted the kids to see if they wanted to meet her. Even though they don’t live at home she would still be a part of our family. Kyle was taking his boyfriend to the airport and couldn’t make it, but McKensie came.

We played with her for about 40 minutes outside. She loved being out of the crate. She bounced around not really sure how to walk on a leash. She is all ears and legs so she looked a bit like a moose jumping around. We had one of the volunteers with us and Peppermint kept going up to her and flopping in her lap. The lady was amazed at how quickly she had bonded with her given that she had just met her the day before.

After we played, we took her back into the store and put her back in the crate. I stood there for about an hour trying to decide what to do. There were tears. My heart was torn because I didn’t think I was ready, but at the same time I didn’t like the thought of her not getting adopted and having to go back to a shelter. When she saw the volunteer that she had bonded with giving water to some of the dogs, Peppermint started whimpering when she saw her. That did me in. I couldn’t stand the fact that she would be taken away from her, but to a shelter and not a loving home. So…I decided to take her home. Honestly, I’m surprised that they let her leave with us because it was clear I was really struggling.

She was terrified of the car ride home. She had been driven from Texas for the event and I don’t think she ever wanted to see a car again. She had a rough few nights once home, but she has settled in and is showing her “true colors” aka puppy wildness. She even had her first vacation last week as we took her on our annual OBX trip. Having her has not taken one bit of my sadness away over losing Lucy. Like I mentioned the tears still come every day. What having her has done is given me something to focus on, but more importantly another fur baby to pour my love into.

I have had so much support from my friends through this journey. Many of them that I have met through the groups I’m in for moms of LGBTQ+ children. Having a gay kid has blessed me in so many ways that I never imagined. One of these friends sent me a book that helped her when she lost her beloved dog. It is from the perspective of the dog that is dying. It’s called, The Last Will and Testament of an Extremely Distinguished Dog by Eugene O’Neill. I must have read it 20 times. This book was very helpful.

This part was especially helpful to me:

The dog mentions that he heard his owners say that when he dies they must never get another dog because they loved him so much and they could never love another. He asks because of their love of him, to have another. He says that it would be a poor tribute to his memory to never have another. In fact, he hopes that he brought his owners so much love and joy that they couldn’t live without another. He does mention that the new dog will never be as distinguished as him, of course, and they shouldn’t use that against him. (smile)

The last page of the book gets me every time I read it, but again gives me comfort. And that last page reads:

“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.” (tears)

Lucy will always be my very best girl. And Pepper (we shortened her shelter name) will be her very own girl with her own personality and we will bond in our own special way. It’s already happening…

So here is our Pepper girl. Like I said she is all ears and legs. Sometimes she looks like a bat…sometimes a gremlin…sometimes a puppy. She has a tuft of hair that sticks up sometimes and she has a bit of an underbite. All things that add to her cuteness…in this mom’s opinion anyway. She is trying to learn all the puppy things (Benry is hoping that she speeds that part up). She makes me laugh every day.

There’s lots of love to give…and love matters even for our furry friends.

They say dogs bring many happy days into our lives and one terrible day…the day you have to say goodbye. Boy do I feel that. One of the things that has been suggested to help with grieving a pet is to write about them. Since that has helped with other things in my life, I thought I’d give it a try. It made sense to do that here because she was actually part of the journey that I write about here.

Lucy
May 5, 2009 – April 14, 2023

We drove an hour and a half to a rescue place in Pennsylvania to pick up a dog named Blue. That’s right…we weren’t even supposed to get you. We saw you on their website, but you were listed as not available for adoption. You were the runt of the litter and the owner didn’t think you were ready. We got there and were taken to a little fenced in play yard where you and your siblings were playing. All the puppies, but you, came running over to say hi. Blue was excitedly jumping up and down to greet us. You were over in the corner sleeping while all of the commotion was happening. We said hi to Blue and he was cute as a button with stunning blue eyes (hence the name) (smile). We asked if we could hold you because you were just so tiny (what they actually named you) and cute, and we fell in love. I guess we looked trustworthy because the owner said she was willing to let us take you. We were so excited!

Since it was a long drive home, we stopped for a potty break for us humans at Wawa. We put your harness on and leashed you up so you could have a potty break too. You went under a bush and suddenly our harness was empty! You were so tiny you came right out of it. Scared us! We thought we lost you. Luckily, we were able to reach in and grab you. We should have known then that having you as part of our family was going to be an adventure.

Your first days at home were not the easiest as is normal with owning a puppy. You didn’t like being in your crate at night. There were a few nights that I slept next to it to try to get you to settle down. I promised you that it was only until you were house trained and enough out of your puppy stage that we could trust you not to destroy the house. We also needed to make sure you got along with the cats. As you grew, we realized that the sleepy little puppy at the rescue was just an act. You were the most energetic dog we’d ever met. After you settled in, we took you to puppy training. You were a good student and graduated with no problem. You were not thrilled with the graduation cap and hid under a stool. We improvised to get a picture. It was all worth it because you also graduated from the crate a few weeks later.

We know that your mom was a husky and it was clear that you had border collie in you. This made you an energetic, smart, spunky, and sassy girl. We got you a year after our journey (the purpose of this blog) began. You went on many late-night walks with me in those beginning years as I processed everything. You didn’t care about religion or what people thought and you were a good listener as I vented about those things on our walks. You loved everyone which is what I wanted to do…no matter what. Having you as a distraction helped me from losing my mind with worry. You kept me busy. It was near impossible to wear you out. You LOVED balls and we would throw them in the yard for you to chase for hours. Kensie would take you out with her scooter and you would pull her down the sidewalk. Even after that you still wanted to play so we would sit on the sofa at night and throw your ball down the basement steps for you to chase. Sometimes we would have to take your ball away because you wouldn’t stop begging for us to throw it and we knew you needed rest. But it was so much fun and a welcomed lightness in the midst of hard things. Your love of balls never ended.

You were a smart cookie. We taught you to ring a bell when you wanted to go outside. You knew lots of commands like come, leave it, sit, lay down, wait, etc. You could catch food when we threw it in the air, you could jump through hula hoops, you could shake hands, high five, sit up pretty on your hind legs, turn in a circle, and roll over. You even played hide and seek. When I cooked dinner, you would dance with me. I would chop some veggies and you would bring me your ball. I would kick it into the family room and you would chase it and bring it back. I always play music when I cook. I would start to dance and you would get so excited. While keeping your ball in your mouth you would gallop towards me as I backed up and when I switched to go towards you, you would jump backwards. We would go back and forth “dancing” a few times, and then I would go back to cooking for a few moments until we did the whole thing all over again.

You were our guard dog. Our doorbell. Our mailman and delivery announcer, and our people greeter. You were a crazy, sweet girl that was loved by many. I don’t think there was a day that went by that you didn’t make me laugh. You brought us such joy.

You were good at getting yourself into predicaments. You loved chewing sticks and since we have some trees behind us we were never in short supply. I would rake the sticks down our big hill and you would steal them and take them back up the hill. One day you came in the house and you kept pawing at your face. Low and behold you got one of those sticks stuck in the roof of your mouth. Off to the vet we had to go. You ripped your toenail digging in the ice and snow. Off to the vet again. You ate a mushroom at the state park that could have been poisonous so yep…off to the vet again. Once when playing with another dog you took off running when the dog had your ear in his mouth and ended up ripping your ear. Let’s just say the vet was used to seeing us. Sadly it made you not like it there very much.

One of your best friends was our neighbor’s dog Brody. He was a year older than you. One day you asked to go out in the backyard. I thought you needed to go to the bathroom. When I realized it was taking you longer than normal, I went out to call you in. You weren’t there! I panicked and started calling your name. I heard you bark and looked over to see you on our neighbor’s deck like “hey mom!” I looked and saw that you and Brody had been working together to dig a hole big enough for you to fit through to his yard. I guess we didn’t plan enough playdates for you both. We were always filling up holes. You tried to deny that you were the culprit, but your nose would say otherwise.

Another crazy thing you did was attack our tree in the backyard. It’s a unique tree in that it is two different trees in one. One part has white flowers and the other has pink flowers. The branches with the pink flowers are lower and when it would rain you would run and leap into the tree and hang from the branches. Sometimes you would get a chunk of the tree to come off and you would run around the yard with it. Luckily you didn’t hurt yourself doing this…so no trips to the vet over that.

You were my shadow. You insisted on following me everywhere. The only thing you didn’t do with me was take a shower (smile), but you would wait outside of the bathroom for me to finish. You were always either sitting next to me or at my feet. And when I was in the sauna, you would wait outside of it on a chair. At night, you would sleep on your dog bed next to my side of the bed or at the foot of my side of the bed. In 2017, I started working from home and you always joined me in my office. All I had to say was it was time for work and you knew just where to go. I only work about 3 hours a week so it never took up much of our play time together. As you got older, you would lay behind my chair and snore the whole time. Boy do I miss that sound. You were the best companion. Becoming an empty nester was made a little easier because you were always by my side.

Who says dogs and cats don’t get along? Benry was your best bud. He loved you SO much. Every morning he would wait by the sliding door for us to get back from our walk. Every morning. When you went out for your potty breaks during the day, if he knew about it (basically if he wasn’t snoozing), he would wait at the door and meow to let me know you were ready to come in. At night, he wouldn’t go upstairs when it was time for bed until he knew you were coming too. He would rub all over your face as you were trying to go up the stairs. You were a good girl and shared your dog bed with him and even shared my lap with him. The day after you left us he sat at the sliding glass door pawing at the glass. I think he was looking for you.

As you got older, I knew our time was limited and I knew it would be hard to say goodbye. It has been harder than I even imagined. You were a part of every part of my day.

The very first thing I did every day for the last 13 years and 11 months when I got out of bed was get dressed and take you for your walk. You loved going for a walk and we went in rain, sleet, wind, and snow. It didn’t matter to you. The only time we didn’t go was if the sidewalks were icy. You didn’t like that, but I always told you that if I fell and broke a hip we would miss way more walks. So mornings now are really hard.

I can’t leave the house without thinking of you because every time I left I would tell you to be a good girl and let you know that I would be right back. A routine that started when you were a puppy and just stuck. And then every time I come back home I expect to see you at the door because you always greeted me when I got back.

I can’t cook dinner without thinking of you because it reminds me of our dancing. And then when I sit to eat, I think of you because I always shared my last bite with you. You always waited patiently for that bite…well most times. It’s especially hard to have french fries because those were one of your favorites.

When I open the sliding door to go out to water my plants on the deck, I think of you. I still expect to see your little head strained to see what I was doing because there was no way I was going out there without you coming with me.

I still can’t believe you are gone. Just last month a neighbor stopped us to ask how old you were because you were still so energetic and got around so well. They were shocked to know that you were just a few weeks away from being 14. Learning you were sick and then having to say goodbye so quickly has been really hard.

There is nothing that I have done this last week and a half that doesn’t make me think of you because you were always with me. I feel like I’ve lost a limb. There wasn’t a day that at some point I didn’t get down on the floor with you to give you a belly rub (something you loved) and a little kiss on the head. I am confident that you knew you were loved and that gives me comfort. You were my Lucy, Lucy Lou, Lucy Goosey, Goose, and forever my puppy pup.

You were my very best girl.