Cady girl, my Cady girl, your bed is empty tonight. I wait for the sound of your toenails clicking across the tile floor, but the house remains silent. I listen for your ferocious bark ... such a loud sound from such a small, sweet little dog. The night is silent. Ten years ago, I brought you home from the animal shelter, a sweet, tiny, quiet puppy who slept cuddled on my shoulder and who cried when I wasn't there. We had adventures, you and I. Drives through the countryside, your head out the back window and your silky brown ears flying in the wind. You loved going to the ranch and running the hills with dad's dog, Louis. You were there 10 years ago, cuddling close as I cried through mom's cancer diagnosis and treatment. And you were there five years ago, helping me through it when she became sick again. And even though you were aging, you cuddled close again last year, when mom died. You were always there for me, my friend. I wish I could have done more for you. I wish now I had told the vet to wait, to give me one more day. We would have gone for a drive, a walk at your favorite place (I'd have carried you, even) ... then a nice, juicy bone or even your favorite Chinese food you haven't been able to eat in the past year. I'll always cherish our time together, Cady. I was there when you went gently into the night. Know now that I miss you dreadfully and I can't wait to see you again. I love you, Cady Marie. "I wouldn't have missed it for the world. I wouldn't have missed loving you, girl. You made my whole life worthwhile, with a smile. I wouldn't trade one memory, for you meant so much to me. Even though I lost you, girl. I wouldn't have missed it for the world.