Goodbye, Little Brother...

Dear Farley,

"Our Farley has now gone to a better place. Rest in peace."

That's the text message I received about you this afternoon. By far the worst I've ever received. I knew it was coming, since I had already talked to mom and dad earlier and knew the situation. But somehow, that didn't really soften the blow.

Farley Olson, my little, non-human brother, you passed away today. You were such an important part of our family (this was what I wrote about you just about one year ago - Prince Farley). I haven't yet grasped the fact that you are gone, and that I can never hug or kiss you again, and that no more breaths will pass through your little body.

From the very day we went to get you and bring you home in June 1996, you changed my life. Some humans might think that sounds kind of ridiculous when referring to a dog. But I stand by it. You really did. To a little girl who had been dreaming of having a dog for so long, it was a life-changing day. I will never forget it. It started many years of perfect moments like this:

I finally had my little buddy! You and I were instant best friends. I never wanted to put you down or be away from you, and I started campaigning to let you sleep in my bed right away. (It took a couple months to break mom and dad down, but we succeeded eventually)

And in the 15 and 1/2 years since that day you came home to 902 Bavarian Court, you have become a permanent part of Olson history, and of my history. You were the best little brother I could have ever hoped for, and I'm so grateful for every moment I had with you.

I think the next time I write, I'll have some of my favorite moments with you to share (there are too many to even begin to count), but for right now I just want you to know what a great dog you were, and what a fun little buddy you were, and how very much you were loved. I will never forget you. And you may not be here physically anymore, but you will live on in my heart forever.

Our big brother, Matthew, told me earlier that it's okay, and that you're back in the sheeps meadow now. I think that's true. Right back where you belong, our little white puff-ball.

Love you always, little brother.
Linds