My best boy ... my golden boy ... my mighty lionheart ... you were always first on our wooded path, always looking back to be sure I was right behind. And I always was.

Until now.

You slipped away in peace among the August morning wraiths, and you never looked back. Lost were your divine nobility, selflessness, and love. Lost was the supernova of light and life that never failed to greet me after even a brief separation. Lost were the smiles and licks ever there for me even after a rebuke. Lost was the unearthly sense of shame whenever you erred. And lost was the fierce protectiveness for those you so deeply cared for.

I can't count the times you regenerated my life. I so wish I could have done the same for you just this once. You emerged from the wilds as a zany whelp, and your spirit remained free and untamable, the trait I loved most about you. Our growing bond was later sanctified that frenzied day when I rescued you in the pine grove and was bathed in your blood.

My beloved, cherished Jock -- it was an honor to have shared your radiant life for 14 sublime years. There will never be another like you, and I miss you beyond breath. Some day I'll again be right behind you on our sun-stippled path. Just don't go where I can't follow ... don't go where I can't follow....