Hi, my name is Rick — this fund is set up to assist financially having an in-home euthanasia in the coming days for my best girl- Layla.

For 15 years, she’s been my family, my best friend, and my greatest source of comfort. Now, it’s time for me to help her cross the rainbow bridge with the same love and dignity she’s given me all these years.

Layla came into my life for all the right reasons and gave me purpose.

Back in 2010, my life was in transition. A close friend I lived with was relocating for work, leaving me alone in a large four-bedroom house while it was up for sale. One night, someone broke into the sunroom and stole items from the bar. I suddenly felt unsafe living alone — so I asked my friend if he’d mind me getting a dog. He said yes.

I’d always grown up with dogs and planned to rescue one at least a year old and didn’t need a lot of potty training. I had just been promoted to supervisor at work, and with my new hours and on-call duties, a puppy wasn’t ideal.

Early one night, after a few too many adult beverages, I tagged along on some errands with a friend who had been over visiting with me. We ended up stopping by her friends house which happened to be filled with puppies everywhere. At least nine or ten from what I remember. (Which wasn’t much due to the beverages and then an added four loko in our travels.) One tiny solid brown puppy stood out from the rest. She was small enough to fit in my hand and snuggled right into my arm. I couldn’t recall much of the visit but remember holding her and then getting back home. My memory was fuzzy for sure.

Some weeks later a man called me and said, “Layla’s ready to be picked up.” Confused, I asked the man “Who is Layla and who the hell are you?”

He explained that on the night I was with my friend and stopped at his house, I told him I was looking for a dog and I wanted Layla. I guess I named her as well that night. We apparently agreed on a price, exchanged phone numbers and I told him to call me when she was weaned from the mother. I didn’t recall any of the conversation with him that night, but the stranger had my number so there was a reason I wanted her so badly.

On October 22, 2010, I went to get her. And that’s where our journey began.

A 15 year journey

Layla has been with me through every chapter of my new life in Columbus. No matter how hard the day, coming home to her wagging tail with a toy at the door made everything better. She has always been my home.

Even if I was gone for ten minutes, she greeted me like I’d been gone for hours. It’s truly the best feeling in the world.

Through her years, she became a big sister to Ivan, Riley, and Olive. She was always protective, loving, and gentle. But, if you messed with her family, she would protect them at whatever cost.

She isn’t just a dog.

She’s my family. She’s my heart and my best friend.

Her Health Battles

Layla has always had ear problems that were manageable for years, but eventually caused her to go deaf. On top of that, her skin allergies have worsened with every season, making her itchy, uncomfortable, and irritable. For skin treatment, baths are frequent and she has always hated them. They’ve become more difficult to do alone with her wanting to escape and not being able to move her limbs to wash her well enough. The only fun time of baths were after bath zoomies, (running from room to room to room as fast as she could). The “zoomies” now consist of running her face down the couch to scratch and the bit of excitement she gets feeling clean. I know deep inside it’s her excitable zoomies from her younger years and I know she feels better.

In 2022, a small tumor appeared on her inner thigh. Tests confirmed it was cancerous. At her age, we had three choices:

1. Remove the tumor (with likely risk of it coming back with a vengeance)

2. Remove her entire limb, or

3. Let it be.

Me and Layla had our talk, and we decided to let it be. At 12, losing a limb was no quality of life. We promised that when it was time, we would know.

That time has come.

️ It’s Time to Let Her Rest

Layla is tired now. I can see it in her eyes. After the vestibular occurrence a few months back, it progressed the decline in her health quickly. Over the years, she’s given me everything; love, purpose, stability, and comfort through every storm.

Since losing her hearing in 2024, her anxiety has tripled. She doesn’t sleep unless I’m home. When I leave, she waits in the front window watching out until I return. The vet has always scared her. She trembles during the entire visit. I can’t bear for her final moments to be full of fear and trembling.

My wish is for Layla to pass peacefully in her home, surrounded by love, comfort, and familiarity. With me right next to her.

What I Need Help With

I’ve found several in-home gentle euthanasia services in Columbus, but they range from $750–$950.

These services include:

• Gentle in-home euthanasia

• Cremation and urn

• Travel and service fees

Unfortunately, the past few months, I’ve gotten behind financially. Between the specialty food for her diet, medications, and monthly vet care, I haven’t been able to prepare for this final expense.

All of the donations will help cover:

Layla’s peaceful in-home transition

Her cremation and urn

Outstanding balance for her emergency vet visit on 10/7

outstanding care club costs

and a hand painted portrait from a local artist

❤️ How You Can Help

Any amount helps — truly. If you can’t donate, please share Layla’s story or send good energy out in the universe for her peaceful passing when the time comes in the days ahead. Since her “gotcha day” was 10/22/10, that is the date I plan to schedule her in home visit to pass peacefully. Leading up to, we are going to do all the things she loves most. This includes lots of car rides and walks (much shorter of course) and eating all the treats. Lots of cuddles will be had.

Layla has given me 15 years of unconditional love. She deserves to rest with dignity, at home, in my arms-where she’s always felt safe.

Thank you, from the bottom of my heart, for helping me honor my Bean the way she deserves.

With gratitude,

Rick