Goodnight, Sweet Isabel.

Isabel has been with us since September of 2013, when she was only 4 months old. I still remember seeing her tiny little self, able to fit in my lap with ease. She got a bit bigger since then, now only able to fit so much of herself on me. She was diagnosed with an inoperable bladder tumor last month, and we knew that it was only a matter of time, but we tried to make her as comfortable as possible. My parents are taking this the hardest, especially my mother, who has been battling cancer for as long as Isabel has been with us.

After vomiting episodes that left her unable to keep food down, excessive needing to pee with the tumor only making it harder and harder to go, and virtually uncontrollable tremors throughout, we've decided tonight is the night.

Believe me, I don't want her to go. We've been down this road before on both sides of the table (wife and I used to work at the same vet clinic), but it doesn't make it any easier. These are some of the last pictures I was able to take of Isabel before her time. I'm just not ready to not see her rubbing up against the couch after an exciting walk, or putting her nose up to my face when I walk in from work, or insisting on booty scratches.

For all of you that have yours, give them a hug tonight for me. Play with them as much as they want and for as long as you can. Give them their favorite snacks and meals whenever the mood strikes, and love them every step of the way.

Isabel: May 10, 2013 - January 2, 2025. She crossed over the bridge shortly after 8 p.m.