It's only been two weeks since you've passed and I still miss you so much. It's seems as though every time I move on a tiny bit something throws me back. Something as little as a clump of your pure white fur that I have to vacuum up. I knew you since I was 1 year old and now I'm 17, I knew this day would come. The day that I would have to let you go. I was being selfish, you couldn't use the bathroom, eat, or drink water without my help. But one day, you ended up peeing on my bed, because you couldn't help it, I knew it was time to let you go. My mother said 'Don't have that dog put down, let her live the rest of her days.' But it doesn't work that way. I looked into your brown eyes, and all I saw was pain. In the vets office, I ran my hands over your old body. Your eyes, that had you running into walls. Your ears, that even in old age always heard my call for you. Your nose, dry and cracked and even peeling off. Your mouth, teeth mostly gone and the few still remaining loose and useless. Your legs, the prancing trot you always had you never ran. Your belly, you loved it being rubbed. And finally your tail, it always wagged when you saw me no matter what. Goodbye VK. Your childhood nickname for when I couldn't even pronounce your name correctly. And please, get along with the other dogs at the Rainbow Bridge, you're still a Queen but you don't always have to be the boss baby c: