Happy

Five years ago, we brought home a dog named Happy. We thought we were rescuing her but it turns out she rescued us.

From the very beginning, Happy warmed up fast, trusting us with her whole heart. She became our Happer Dapper, our Dap, our steady presence and daily joy. She loved hiking trails and open air, sneezing with absolute enthusiasm, and dancing pretty whenever she thought it might earn her a smile (or a snack). She was a sloppy swimmer, no grace, all commitment and somehow always found the most inopportune moments to jump into the water, because being part of the fun mattered more than timing.

If you were looking for her, you’d find her asleep at the end of Silas’s bed, or stationed patiently beneath the high chair, waiting for P to drop a pickle. She knew where love lived and positioned herself right in the middle of it.

Mom will miss giving her gentle “pinches,” those quiet little moments of affection. Dad’s lap already feels the absence of her weight, her warmth, her certainty that that spot was home. Every corner of the house feels different without her.

Happy lived up to her name. She gave us comfort, laughter, routine, and the kind of love that asks for nothing and gives everything. Though her time with us was far too short, her impact was enormous and permanent.

We will miss you, Happy. Thank you for choosing us, for trusting us, and for loving us so completely. You will always be part of this family