The last day of year 2025 took everything, it didn’t just end. It closed its doors by taking my happiness with it.
On December 31st, 2025 at 4:00 PM, time stopped for me. That was the moment my world went quiet, the moment I had to let my beloved Kerry fall into her forever sleep. She was only 9.
For one whole year, Kerry fought like a warrior. Hospitals became familiar places. Medicines became routine. Sleepless nights became normal. Hope became fragile but it never disappeared. Not even once.
I watched her endure pain she never deserved. I watched her eyes search for me, still trusting, still loving, even when her body was tired.
I spent little over $21,000 trying to buy her more time but love doesn’t work on receipts or numbers. It works on presence, on sacrifice, on staying until the very last breath.
Yesterday, the vet looked at me with tears they tried to hide and said, “There’s nothing more we can do.” So I did the hardest thing I will ever do. I held her. I kissed her. I whispered that she was the best girl, that she was brave, that she was loved beyond words. And then I let her go because loving her meant ending her pain, even if it meant beginning mine.
The last day of 2025 didn’t bring fireworks or celebration. It brought silence. It brought emptiness. It took Kerry… and with her, a part of my soul.
The house feels different now. Too quiet. Too heavy. I still look for her. I still expect her. And every breath hurts because she isn’t here to share it with me anymore.
Kerry wasn’t “just a dog.” She was my comfort. My strength. My home. And I miss her more than words will ever explain.
How do I cope with this loss?