We adopted Zoey in 2014 when she was four years old. She had been at the shelter for more than 100 days, overlooked by everyone who walked past her. She looked like she hadn't had a bath in months, and she was terrified of people.
I'll never forget bringing her home. For the first few days, she hid quietly under the table, unsure if she could trust us. But little by little, she began to open her heart. After her first bath, it was like a beautiful girl had been hiding beneath years of dirt and fear. Watching her blossom into the dog she was meant to be was one of the greatest gifts we could have asked for.
Zoey was full of life. We called her our "crazy girl" because she seemed to have endless energy. She could outrun just about every dog we ever met. Looking back, maybe that speed was one of the reasons she survived for so long before we found her.
When she wasn't running around, she was the biggest couch potato. She loved curling up beside my wife for long naps. She was incredibly food-motivated, never turned down a walk, and always checked in on us as if it were her job to make sure her family was okay.
She was simply a good dog.
We couldn't have asked for a better companion. She was gentle, loyal, and patient, even helping teach Boba the ropes when he was just a puppy. For so many years, she asked for so little and gave us so much in return.
Until recently, Zoey was almost completely maintenance-free. Then our world changed when she was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer. The energetic, fearless girl we knew slowly disappeared, replaced by shaky legs, moments of unconsciousness, and seizures. It was heartbreaking to watch.
I would have kept fighting for her for as long as it took. I was ready to take as much time off work as necessary if it meant having more time with her. But eventually, Zoey stopped eating, and it became clear she was no longer comfortable. Loving her meant making the hardest decision we've ever had to make.
We had to say goodbye.
Thank you, Zoey, for choosing to trust us after the world had let you down. Thank you for every walk, every nap, every laugh, and every memory. You taught us what unconditional love looks like, and our home will never be the same without you.
You may have started your life unwanted and forgotten, but you left this world deeply loved.
Run free again, crazy girl. No more pain, no more fear. We'll miss you every single day, and you'll forever have a place in our hearts.
2010-06-01 - 2026-07-23
Kuan Fu, Las Vegas, NV