My name is Millie, and this is my story. They called me a GSP, that’s short for German Shorthair Pointer. Sometimes my mom slipped and called me a GPS, which wasn’t too far off, considering I always pulled my human in whatever direction my nose decided to go. Mom used to say running with me every morning was like holding on to a kite in a tornado.

Here’s the thing: it’s the nose. I was born to chase: birds, bunnies, butterflies, and especially bumblebees in the lavender. Squirrels and raccoons taunted me. Grasshoppers teased me.

I lived to point at anything that moved; flies in the window, swallows at the beach. I noticed what most people overlook. I didn’t need a phone to focus; I had the backdoor window. Life was waiting for me every single day, and the anticipation of the chase made me quiver with excitement. If there were a staring contest, I’d win.

My hobbies? Car rides, running free on sandy beaches at first light, dunking my entire nose in my water bowl (and soaking the kitchen floor in the process). Diving under the sheets at all hours, licking legs at 5 a.m. (or myself first, then the humans), being a backrest for writers hunched over their computers, there’s a reason they call us “Velcro dogs.”

I know my voice was loud, just like my energy. But my love was louder. How lucky I was to be adopted by you at six months old. From then on, it was life on Millie time; 24 hours a day. And honestly, I think I trained you pretty well.

But what I hope I taught you most was about love and passion. To never be afraid to love more, and to always throw yourself into what you believe in. I loved the water. I loved sticks. I loved salmon, carrots, and licking out the yogurt container. I loved leaping into the plum trees for a sweet snack. I loved being a 70-pound “lap dog.” I loved poking my nose through the sunroof and feeling the wind flap my long chocolate ears. I loved sniffing every new bum that walked through the door. And most of all, I loved your soft words of adoration.

I loved life. I loved you.

I know I left too soon, and too suddenly. But my passion and love aren’t gone; they live in you. My last run was pure joy, wild and free. Carry that joy with you. Look out the windows. Notice everything. Be passionate today, not tomorrow. Life is exciting. I felt that energy every single day.

Remember that. Always. I love you.

Love and passion are everywhere.