I still remember the first time I saw you in the pet store. All the other puppies were yapping and jumping and wagging their tails, but you didn’t join in. Instead, you tumbled. Tumbled all over your little playpen, tumbled over your reproachful brothers and sisters, into my hands when I first tried to pick you up. Somehow, when you didn’t tumble out again, I knew you were the puppy for me.

Raising you was very hard. You were a destructive little klutz of a creature, knocking down almost everything, which made me grateful for the fact that I didn’t have very expensive tastes. You lived every moment of every day to the fullest, and every time I saw you, loud and inquisitive and naughty and just so happy, it made me feel so grateful. Grateful that I’d been blessed with a friend like you.

You were such a slob. Every time I set down a plate of food for you, you would just gobble it right up, leaving a foot-wide perimeter around your bowl. And then, whenever I yelled at you for making a mess, you would whine apologetically, and lick all your spilt food, as though you wanted to help me clean. And I would laugh, and let you tumble into my lap. I never could stay angry with you for long.

And your games? Man oh man, were you a little furball of life and energy! Running here, running there, and yet you never slowed down. The mishaps you suffered would have daunted any dog but you, Robbie. And I’ll always remember you for that.

And that’s why I made the hardest ever decision of my life, twelve years after I saw you. Because I couldn’t stand to see you, weak and drained of energy, not tumbling about anymore. It was probably selfish, but I convinced myself you didn’t want to stay this way either. And so I asked them to give you the easy way out. So that you could, in my memory, forever remain the playful, energetic, tumbling bundle of joy that changed my life all those years ago. But, before I let you go, I had to give you one last treat. And so it was that we went to your favourite park, the day before it was supposed to happen. You tried to have as much fun as you could. For me, I think, more than anything else. And then I took you to your favourite little hill. The one where you and I had the happiest memories together. The one where we would create our last happy memory. You looked at me once, with eyes that knew what was to come, but accepted it. With eyes that wanted to have fun one last time. And then you tumbled.