I had to say goodbye to my dog, Ozzy, today.
One moment, he was with me — and the next, he was gone.
His body lay still, and under my hands, I could no longer feel the gentle rise and fall of his breath.
I gave him a final kiss — maybe two, maybe more — and then I left.

They’ll return his ashes in two weeks. But I’ll never truly know if they’ll be his… or the ashes of another dog.
And honestly, does it even matter?
Ozzy isn’t in those ashes.
He’s in every memory, every moment of love we shared.

While we were waiting for the doctor, I leaned in and whispered, “Thank you.”
Thank you for the walks, the laughter, the years of unconditional presence.
Thank you for everything you taught me across 16 years of love.
I told him thank you over and over.
I asked him to visit me. To send signs that he’s still here, still nearby, still running free,  
still eating incessantly — oh, how he loved food.

And in those final moments, he looked at me.His eyes met mine, calm, still,
and present in a way I had never seen before.It was as if he knew.
As if he was trying to tell me, It’s okay. I’m ready.
I kissed him. I caressed him.
And still, I wish I had given him more — more time, more love, more of everything.

My heart is shattered.
And it’s almost unbearable to write about him — the pain is too sharp.
But I know that if I don’t put these words down today, something about this goodbye will feel incomplete tomorrow.

Mauro, my ex-husband, wrote something about Ozzy. He said that Ozzy wasn’t exactly a “good dog.”
And it’s true.
Ozzy was jealous. Possessive. Grumpy. Intense.
But he was mine.
And I loved him with every part of me.
And he loved me back — just as fiercely.
If anyone ever taught me the meaning of pure, unfiltered, unconditional love… it was Ozzy.

When I say thank you, I mean thank you for showing me the many layers of love —
Love that’s patient.
Love that’s resilient.
Love that sacrifices.

For weeks, maybe months, I resisted what I knew deep down — that it was time.
That he was suffering.
That I needed to let him go.

So a few days ago, I asked the Universe for a sign through my tarot cards::
“If Ozzy is ready, show me the Death card.”

And the next morning… there it was.
The Death card.
I tried to brush it off, tell myself it was just a coincidence.
But I know better. Tarot has always spoken clearly to me.

Then he got worse.
And yesterday morning, during my daily reading, the Death card appeared again.

I cried all day.
Because I knew. I knew.
It was time.

Ozzy was ready.
I had to be, too — for him.

And yet… how do you say goodbye to someone you’ve loved so completely?
The pain I feel now is as deep as the love I have for him.

And I keep thinking:
How courageous we humans are — to love so deeply, knowing that everything we love can one day be taken from us.

Goodbye, my brave little warrior.
Goodbye, my sweet, grumpy friend.
Goodbye, my boy.

I will love you forever.