We had to say good-bye to Leia this week.

We found a tumor in her chest early this year and had it removed. It turned out to be a rarer, aggressive form of cancer that had already spread. She was holding out pretty well for a while. After a shaky start, she recovered from the surgery. But we could feel more and more tumors growing. Then she took a sudden turn for the worse and deteriorated rapidly over the last three days of her life. We took her in to end her suffering on Monday, March 14, 2016.

The day before was my birthday. We knew our time left with Leia was short, so we celebrated by going for a family walk along the Petoskey waterfront. She was a real trooper! She made the whole walk. And she was happy. I could see her rear legs shaking, but she had her Leia grin on her face, which was so great to see after watching her become increasingly miserable lying around the house. Here are a few photos with her after our walk.

I remember the first time I saw her. Joanne had told me one of her coworkers had rescued a dog and needed someone to take it. I argued against it, but Joanne wouldn’t listen to me, as usual. I was hanging out at a friend’s place, a short walk from our apartment. So instead of taking the dog home, Joanne brought it over.

When she walked in the door, I was shocked. I was expecting some mangy mutt like those we saw all the time abandoned up the mountain. Instead, here was this beautiful golden retriever. My drinking buddies, John and Andrew, started asking about what we were going to name her. They suggested a Star Wars-themed name, and “Chewbacca” was jokingly thrown out before the obvious answer. That was it. Leia. Perfect.

We remember bringing her back to our apartment and putting her out on our enclosed balcony for the night. But she just wined and wined. We caved and let her into our room (which the balcony was off of). She lay down at the foot of our bed and was quiet the rest of the night. She just wanted to be near us. She was always that way. Even if I went to the bathroom, she would come lay her head on her paws just inside the doorway to wait for me.

She was so quiet. We heard her bark only a handful of times her entire life. And so gentle. She would chew on stuffed toys, but never chewed through them. She would nuzzle her muzzle against you to get your attention and make you scratch her. She loved kids. Every time she saw kids, her head would perk up and she’d watch them.

We remember how she went crazy when we brought Eli home from the hospital. She was so curious and excited. She kept trying to investigate, but she was so excited, we had to hold her back until she calmed down. From that point on, she took on a bit of a nanny role. She was always there with one eye on Eli. And when Eli would pull her hair or climb all over her, she would just patiently endure it. We told Eli she was his big hairy sister.

She was like a goat. She was always hungry and would eat anything.

When she was younger, we would take her for drives on the scooter up the mountain. Up to the parks to go for walks with us. She eventually outgrew the scooter, though, so we had to stop taking her. We had good walks from our apartment. When Eli came, it grew hard to give her the attention we would have liked. Less time for walks. She was lying around bored a lot. We knew we would be moving to the US for Eli to have a better environment, though, and looked forward to Leia being able to run free in northern Michigan.

She loved it. She saw snow for the first time. Ran on the beach for the first time. Got to wander off her leash for the first time. She even ran away a few times and got us all worried until we got a call from someone up the shores or she finally wandered back home. We got to take her for long walks along the beach, or back into Wycamp. We’re so glad she got to do that in the last couple years of her life.

She was a really special girl, and we will miss her. She’s been such a big part of our lives for so long. If I get up in the middle of the night to go to the bathroom, I still find myself creeping so as not to trip over her lying in the middle of my path in the dark. Just a habit. Still expect her to be there. The other day, Eli spilled some cereal on the floor and I asked him to pick it up. That’s okay, he said, Leia will eat it. I had to remind him she is gone.

It’s been hard to explain to Eli. When it was time, we said our good-byes and I took him out of the room and mommy stayed with Leia. I told Joanne it should be her. They always had a special relationship. I was the alpha dog who Leia was obedient to, but Joanne and Leia had a totally different kind of bond.

After leaving the room, while they were administering the drug that would end her pain, Eli said to me, “I want to give Leia a treat.” They have little biscuits in a bowl at the vet, and Eli always gave her one when we went there. I had to tell him I was sorry, but she was gone now.

They wrapped her in a blanket and put her on a cart to take out to our car. Eli saw them out the window. Did he know what was inside the blanket? He seemed to know that she was in the back of the car. “I don’t hear Leia,” he said as we were pulling out. She always panted with excitement when she got to go for a car ride.

We took her to a pet cremation center in Gaylord. They laid her in a ceremonial room for us to say our final goodbyes. She looked peaceful. Like she was just sleeping. Such a beautiful dog. Our time with her was cut short, but she enriched our lives for the time she was with us, just over nine years. We figure she was between 11 and 12 years old.

We never knew her as a little puppy, but try to imagine what she would have been like. Such a special dog. She was family. We will miss her.