Obituary for a good dog, most likely swimming in heaven

Dogs don’t get obituaries, but they should. If you’re a “dog person” you know the way these four-legged furry friends walk directly into our hearts and set up camp for as long as we are lucky enough to have them. And when they leave, there is a giant hole and a few favorite toys still strewn around the house.

My Martha May was born in February of 2020. She was the ugly puppy − splotchy fur and on the scrawny side. But there was something about her and it wasn’t long before she was growing and thriving.

Martha was only 4 years old when we lost her. She developed heart issues last summer and although she was on medication and seemed to be doing better, a sunny day in March 2024 happened to be her day. We were taking a hike through our little patch of woods and she sprinted ahead. By the time I rounded the corner, she was gone.

I loved my dog more than I thought I could. She was my best friend and I miss her daily. But in her legacy, I can’t help but think about how much she loved us, too, and how she showed it any chance she got.

A snuggler, a walker, a best friend

Martha loved to be physically close and snuggle. If we were sitting at the kitchen table, she was on top of my feet. If I was on the couch, she was right next to me. We even made the mistake of letting her sleep in our bed. At first she was happy at the foot, but eventually made her way to the head. I never thought I’d share my pillow with a dog, but I did and it was good.

Martha also didn’t like it when we left. She caught on that whenever I would let them out to use their grassy restroom and had shoes on, she knew I was leaving. She would walk toward the side door to go outside but then realize what was happening and change course and lay directly in front of the door to the garage. “Don’t leave,” she said with her body plopped down so I couldn’t even open the door.

Martha loved to go for walks, as most dogs do. She loved to run and explore the woods by our house and I imagine her thinking that each time was an adventure to find something gross to snack on. But she also knew that when my whistle traveled through the trees, she would come running back to me. I trusted her to leave and I trusted her to come home, and she trusted me to get a scratch of the ears or a treat. Those were good days.

Looking back, I knew I loved my dog and even more so, I knew my dog loved me. I will make sure she is gone but not forgotten, and remember to take the time to tell important people in my life how much they mean to me. Keep your eyes and your heart open, ready to give and receive just like Martha did.

She was a good dog. If there is a doggy heaven, she’s already swimming.

Reach Karrie McAllister at mckarrie@gmail.com.

This article originally appeared on The Daily Record: Karrie McAllister: Obituary for a good dog, Martha May