For Our Una (2012-2026)

  The day after Una passed away was a rough one.  The house was too quiet.  My routine of taking care of the dog's daily needs was gone.  I still couldn't grasp that she won't be back. She spent the night with someone I said.  Or she's outside running around.  But she'll be back in the house, I know she will.  There are now reminders everywhere of Una.  Her beds.  Her food and water bowl.  Her dog food.  Her walking leashes.  Her blankets.  I picked up one of her blankets just to inhale her smell again. Her sweaters for those cold days.  And even more sadly, her medicine that she had been taking since last November.  Una suffered from epilepsy/seizures from last November until the day before she died.  These are awful things to watch your dog go through.  But Una was a fighter.  And until the last week of her life she would always recover.  But the seizures took a toll.  She was not the same Una anymore.  The light and sparkle in her eyes had disappeared.  She had trouble walking.  She was telling us its time. 

  My wife named her Una. Meaning “the one”. Although we had no idea when we got her in September 2013 that she would be “the one”. But something in that initial meeting told my wife this dog was special. We never owned a dog before. Or any pets. My parents had cats. Her parents had dogs. But since we lived together we never owned a pet. Particularly for me, having a dog was a brand new experience. But Una was special from day one. She made me feel less nervous. And she made us feel like we were meant to be together. 

  Una was born on December 10, 2012.  But she was given up by her owner nine months later.  We'll never know why.  And I always felt bad for her that someone let her go.  My wife knew about Una through her friends.  And outside of one photo we never met Una before.  My first reaction was how small she was.  Una was a long-haired Chihuahua.  It's not a rare breed, but not the most common seen of the Chihuahua's. It was love at first sight.  From the start she changed our lives.  My son had moved out of the house and the timing was right for a pet in our life.  Una opened up a whole new world in our eyes.  For 13 years her enthusiasm and curiosity about life was fascinating.  She would get excited to go for car rides.  She'd jump in the car and have that "take me somewhere" attitude. Holding and getting kisses from her was special.  She was my walking companion.  No change that.  I was her walking companion. Almost every night she sat or slept next to me on the couch as I watched television.

  Una was a special dog loved by everyone.  She passed away from the effects of too many seizures, which in turn caused some dementia.  I don't want to remember her last weeks.  I want to remember how she was always there with a kiss when i asked for one. Today there is sadness at her passing.  Much grief. No, change that.  Much devastation.  Like every dog, Una deserved to live a long life free of illness.  She did not deserve to suffer in her last days.  I wonder if she knew how much she was loved in her final moments. She is no longer in pain.  I am comforted in knowing she is running free once again a healthy dog. On her last day we walked around one of her favorite spots, a lake. She couldn't walk as well anymore, so we held her the whole way.  In her last hour we sat on the front steps holding her.  It was a beautiful, peaceful moment.  Just Mommy, Daddy and our beautiful Una.  Together one last time. I choose to remember all the wonderful moments we had with her.  After she passed I took walks around areas we always walked.  I brought her leash with me. Like the old days.  Just me and my Una out for a walk.  

  On the first night without her she came to my dreams briefly but as a reminder.  From my bed I saw her in the hallway.  I heard her scratching herself next to me in her own bed.  She's letting us know that we are all still together.  She was a precious angel. We hope our little Una Buna knows that she will never be alone.  We are indeed all together. And we will love her forever.