Last night I was woken up by a phone call from my sister.
She sounded weird. And why would she call at 1am?
Venus Lynn, my dog, my best friend, the keeper of my secrets and the love of my life, had just passed away.

She was eleven years old.

Mom explained to me her entire day.
We were all in shock because she never once whimpered, she never once tried to let us know if she was in pain. She was just the happiest, the sweetest dog I've ever met. As a matter of fact I had just been bragging about her to someone on the plane the other day, about how she was in fact the best dog in the world - she's so cool. Who am I supposed to tell all my secrets to now? Who will stand up for me at my wedding? None of my friends have known me so well for so long.

Yesterday she seemed fine, maybe a little more likely to not get up than usual, but when Dad got home from work she excitedly greeted him and asked, along with her sister, to go for a walk (they do this by sitting as close to you as possible on the couch, wiggling their little butts because their tails are wagging so hard at the sight of Dad putting on his sneakers and ankle weights.). Mom said she was her usual bouncy self on her way out of the yard.

That's one of my favorite things about her, she bounces.

And then later she just laid in the yard for a long time and didn't get up. Mom saw her try to get up but her back legs weren't working, so Mom picked up her rear end and towed her into the house and onto a pillow. She says that Venus was just as happy as could be and that she and Felicity sat with her and sang to her and figured she would be okay, and if she hadn't recovered completely by morning, then they would call the vet.

But when they went to say goodnight to her, she had passed away in her sleep.

Venus was, as I have said many times before over the years, my best friend and the love of my life. She was a talker and she yowled the most at me. She growled sometimes if Xena, her sister, got too close during a hug session. She was very protective of me. She was my baby and my favorite part of coming home. I was saying how I wish I could have been there last night, but I think it would have destroyed me to see her like that. I'm glad the last memories I have of her are of her bouncing around, laying at my feet while I watched TV with Mom, wrinkling her face into her sad, worried look when I went to the airport. I'm glad, so very glad now, that the last time I tried to get back to Chicago, I ended up being crazy delayed and coming back home twice before actually getting on a plane. That two more goodbyes I had for her. Two extra kisses I got to bestow.

Baby, I'll never forget you. You were the best thing in my life for eleven years and the best part about me, too. The piece of my heart that you take with you is yours to keep. I can't wait to hug you in heaven.


Rest in peace, sweet puppy.

Venus Lynn "Vener-schnitzel" Turcott
February 6, 1998 - June 2, 2009

Picture above from spring of 1998, My sister Felicity is on the left with Xena and I am on the right with Venus.