Forever My Treasure: A Tribute to Luna
I tossed the stick one last time, just like we always did. It was one of those golden evenings when the sun casts everything in warm light, and Luna—my wild, joyful girl—dashed after it like her heart would never tire. But this time, she didn’t come back.
I called her name. Once. Twice. Silence answered. When I reached her, she was lying still, eyes soft and peaceful, as if she had simply drifted off into sleep under the sky she loved. Her heart had given out. And mine shattered in the very same moment.
Luna wasn’t just a dog. She was my constant. My shadow. The one who greeted me every day like I was the best part of her world. She was my comfort on stormy nights, both literal and emotional—the first to notice when I was hurting, the first to try to fix it with a nuzzle or her paw in my lap. She had this quiet intuition, this ancient soul in her eyes that made you believe she understood everything.
I got Luna during one of the darkest periods of my life. I hadn’t planned to adopt a dog. I didn’t think I had the time, the energy, or the heart. But she was a stray who found her way into my yard, skinny and soaked from the rain, looking up at me as if to say, “I choose you.” I didn’t know it yet, but from that moment on, she began saving me, piece by piece.
She had a spirit you couldn’t cage. There was always mischief in her—stolen socks, mysterious holes in the backyard, mysterious disappearances of entire sandwiches. But there was also magic: the way she could make strangers smile, how she instinctively protected children, and the way she would sit beside me in perfect stillness when I cried.
Luna taught me joy. She taught me presence. That a simple walk could be an adventure. That lying on the grass together in the sun could be enough. That there’s a kind of love that doesn’t require words—just trust and time and showing up, day after day.
When things fell apart—when I lost loved ones, when relationships ended, when my own mental health wavered—she was the thread that kept me stitched together. There’s a particular comfort in a dog’s love. It’s not demanding. It’s not complicated. It’s just… there. Pure and true and unwavering.
And Luna gave me that every single day.
She knew how to read my moods better than anyone else. She’d wake me up with a wet nose when I overslept, nudge me toward the door when I hadn’t gone outside enough, rest her chin on my chest when I was stuck in my own head too long. She had this way of reminding me to live—not just survive.
She loved car rides, even if we were just going to the grocery store. She’d stick her head out the window and close her eyes like she was memorizing the wind. She had a thing for blueberries. Hated baths. Loved rolling in mud after a bath. And she snored louder than anyone I’ve ever met.
Now, the leash hangs by the door—still, unused, painfully quiet. Her water bowl is empty, but I can’t bring myself to put it away. Her favorite toy, a worn-out duck with one eye missing, still lies on her bed, waiting for her.
But she’s not coming back. And the silence is deafening.
Some people say “she was just a dog.” But to me, she was everything. A soul tethered to mine in ways I can’t explain. A friend, a protector, a confidant, a tiny therapist in fur. She showed me what unconditional love looks like—how it heals, how it endures.
Losing her feels like losing a part of myself. But I know grief is the price we pay for love. And oh, how worth it she was. Every moment. Every muddy pawprint. Every sleepless night during thunderstorms. Every vet visit. Every joyful bark and slobbery kiss.
In the end, I held her close. Whispered thank yous into her fur. Told her she was a good girl, the best girl, over and over again. And I meant every word.
She gave me more than I could ever give back.
And though she’s gone, she’s still everywhere. In the quiet creak of the floor where she used to curl up. In the corners of my routine. In the ache I carry in my chest. But also—in the strength she left me, in the softness she brought into my life, in the laughter that echoes from memories only we shared.
Sometimes I catch myself still looking for her. Turning my head when I hear a tag jingle. Opening the door slower, expecting to be met with excited paws. I think a part of me always will.
They say dogs leave paw prints on our hearts. But Luna left more than that. She left an imprint on my soul.
Sleep well, Luna.
You were my greatest gift, my truest companion, and you’ll live in every beat of my heart.
Run free now, wild girl. Wherever you are, I hope there are endless sticks to chase, puddles to splash in, and sunny spots to nap under.
Until we meet again.
Forever my treasure. 💔🐾
