Puccini was born in 2006 and was a gift from my father to my mother. I was in school at this time, so I didn't see him beyond my visits to family for the holidays.

In 2016, I moved in with my ma and Puccini -- this is when our bond was forged. I walked him three times a day, helped bathe him, was protective of him, and he slept with me on the weekends.

As he got older, I carried him down the stairs and I prepared his special dry food mix.

For five years we grew close, and I came up with so many affectionate nicknames for him: Poochie, Poochie-bear, Poopy-boy, Poochie-boy, Poopy, etc.

I wasn't home to say goodbye to him; I was out of state helping my sister. Oh, how I wish I were there for him. Helping my mom by acting as an intermediary between her and the emergency veterinarian over the telephone was traumatic, but I had to be strong for my mother and Puccini.

Puccini died in October 2021. He died!

That night was the worst of my life. I had never felt grief until the day my dog died; and still, some nine months on, I sob for him.

I'm sobbing right now as I write this memorial for my furry brother.

My mother and I will miss him forever.