The One We Lost
4-10-2026
Over the month we had her, we started to notice small changes that didn’t feel right. At first, it was subtle—she seemed a little unsteady when she walked, like she was unsure of her footing. Then it became more noticeable. She struggled to get up, her back legs wobbling beneath her. Each day, it felt like she was losing a little more control of her body. The same dog who had slowly learned to trust, who followed me from room to room, was now struggling just to stand.
We took her to the vet again and again, hoping for answers, hoping for something that could fix it. The doctors believed it was connected to the distemper she had been fighting, as the disease can attack the nervous system and cause neurological damage. They tried different medications, and for a while, we held onto hope that something would work—that she would turn a corner. But she didn’t. Instead, she continued to decline, becoming more and more paralyzed as the days passed.
Eventually, we were faced with a decision no one ever wants to make. The veterinarians told us that the medication wasn’t helping and that Stella’s quality of life would only continue to get worse. As much as we loved her, we knew we couldn’t let her suffer.
We chose to say goodbye at home, in the place where she had finally felt safe.
That day is something I’ll never forget. We laid with her in our living room, the same place where she had curled up beside me and learned what it meant to be loved. The woman who came to help with the euthanasia was so gentle and kind. She spoke softly, giving us time, understanding how hard this was. Even though this was her job—something she did every day—she was crying with us. It made it clear just how special Stella was.
We held her, pet her, and told her how much we loved her as she peacefully slipped away.
Afterward, the woman gave us a small clay paw print, a piece of Stella we could keep forever. It may seem like something small, but it means everything to us. It’s a reminder that she was here, that she was loved, and that even in her short time with us, she made a lasting impact.
Stella came into our lives scared and broken, but she left knowing love—and that’s something I’ll carry with me forever.