Today was the day she had dreaded for weeks. Deep down, she knew it was coming, but her heart prayed for more time. Chloe, their 11-year-old American Bulldog, who had been part of their family from the beginning, took her final breath. Chloe had been there for everything, from the start of their love story to raising their children, and now she was gone. The house felt heavier and quieter, and nothing could prepare her for the ache of not having her dog underfoot.
She remembered the day Chloe first came home. She and Kyle had just moved in together, so young and full of dreams. Kyle already had one bulldog, Titian, and they thought he needed a friend. Chloe was the runt of her litter, a tiny ball of joy, but she quickly filled their world with happiness. They had no idea what lay ahead at 18 and 24 years old. They only knew they had each other, two puppies, and a future full of possibilities. From that day on, Chloe was always there.
Chloe even played a part in their engagement. When Kyle set up a scavenger hunt leading to his proposal, Chloe and Titian followed her around the house, tails thumping against the walls, as if they were in on the secret. She laughed when she thought back on that memory, Chloe wagging with excitement as Kyle knelt with the ring. Chloe wasn’t just a pet; she was part of every moment that mattered, part of the family’s story from the beginning.
Life had its share of heartbreaks, and Chloe was there for those, too. She remembered the first pregnancy loss, the way her heart shattered into pieces. She spent nights crying in the bathtub, her arm stretched over the side while Chloe rested her heavy jowls on her leg. Chloe never left her. Through loss after loss and the fear of trying again, Chloe comforted her when no one else could. When Wyatt was finally born, Chloe welcomed him home like she had been waiting for him all along, sleeping beside his crib, following him during tummy time, always close.
Grief came again just six weeks later when her beloved grandfather passed away. The sorrow and postpartum emotions nearly broke her, but Chloe was there too. She would nudge her hand at the right time or lie in the hallway where she couldn’t be missed. Chloe had a way of showing up exactly when she was needed. Over the years, there were health scares, dog fights, and moves to new places, but Chloe pulled through each time. She was her first baby, her shadow, her constant companion.
More children came, each one greeted by Chloe with the same steady devotion. Maddie and Tucker grew up with her just like Wyatt had. Every night, she would choose her sleeping spot carefully, ensuring she got her moment of love before anyone else. She found her favorite place at the top of the stairs, tail thumping against the vent so loudly it could be heard through the whole house. The kids fought over whose room she would sleep in, because everyone wanted Chloe by their side. She was part of their bedtime routine, part of their laughter, part of their family rhythm.
Then came the cancer. At first, it was subtle, Chloe breathing strangely, sitting up when she usually was too lazy to do anything but wiggle or sleep. Then the lumps appeared, two large masses pressing against her throat. The begging look in her eyes told the truth. It was almost time. She knew it, even if her heart wasn’t ready. Together with Kyle, they prepared the children as gently as possible, giving them time to say goodbye. The kids fed Chloe treats, begged her to eat, and wrapped her in love during those last days.
On the final morning, she took a picture, though it was not the happy photo she had hoped for. Instead, it was full of tears as she lay beside her dog, clinging to the little time left. An hour later, Chloe was gone. For the first time in more than a decade, Chloe wasn’t there. The food bowl still sat full, the spot at the top of the stairs was empty, and the sound of her tail hitting the vent was gone. The children asked for her, but she could only shake her head and hold herself together.
Now the house feels different. No wet nose pushing into her hand, no snoring at the foot of the bed, no tripping over her in the dark hallway. Chloe gave everything she had, right until the end. Her body is no longer in pain, but her family’s hearts ache without her. She wasn’t just a dog. She was their first baby, a steady comfort, protector, and joy. Saying goodbye may have been the hardest thing she ever had to do, because no matter how much she prepared, her heart just wasn’t ready.
