From the moment I brought Jelly home, we were inseparable. If I moved, she moved. If I was away from her for too long, she would come looking for me. While her name was Jelly, I affectionately called her my shadow. There was nowhere that I could walk that Jelly was not right behind me. When I got my first Yorkie, I named him Peanut Butter, and I always knew that I would get him a friend and name her Jelly. Peanut Butter and Jelly became instant friends, and together we formed our own little family. So much had gone on during the last few years of my life that I welcomed this family that I had created. It was simple. It was peaceful. It was mine. Jelly loved being outside, and she was always with me in the garden. We planted everything, and as it grew, I watched her grow. She was only 4 lbs, but she believed she was 40 lbs. She was my guard dog, always alerting me that someone was nearby when we were outside. Jelly was 2 years old, and I decided that it was time to get her fixed. That morning, we were outside, and she was sniffing roses. I told her to leave those alone before she touched a thorn and I promised her when we got home, we will go outside and plant them.

When I brought Jelly home, she was very lethargic and only ate a few snacks. The next day, it was worse. I tried to get her to eat, and she would not eat anything. I took her to the emergency vet, and they told me she was fine. I came home, and things did not improve. I went back to the emergency vet and said I was not leaving until they helped me. Jelly was admitted and given oxygen, and they were going to do what they could to save her. I asked if I could go back and see her, and with what little strength she had, she stood up to look at me. She was behind a container giving her oxygen. I couldn’t hold her. I told her I loved her and left. When I got home, I waited. I paced. I prayed. I begged. I told Peanut Butter to go inside their kennel, and he walked to the entry of the kennel and refused to go in. That had never happened before, and I knew Jelly was gone. Peanut Butter had spent most of his little life with Jelly. They, too, were also inseparable. A few seconds later, the doctor called and told me Jelly died. And that day, a piece of me died too. The pain was even worse when I learned there were no ligatures found at the site of her internal incisions. No ligatures.

How could this happen? Why was her incision not tied off? I had too many questions and a heaping load of guilt for ever taking her to be fixed. Jelly was a healthy playful dog just days before. I asked them if they could give me her ponytail and they did. Just days before I had a playful dog. Now I was going home with just her ponytail.

I know many people think, “It’s just a dog,” but Jelly was my best friend. Jelly loved me unconditionally. Jelly didn’t care about the way I looked or how I dressed. All she wanted to do was love me and be loved. And I loved (love) Jelly more than I can put into words. She was feisty, funny, and energetic. She made my days better. She made me better. For the rest of my life, I will miss her. I think about her every single day. So many days, I wish I could rewind time. I wish I could hold her again. I wish I could take her everywhere with me. I wish I could just see her again and tell her thank you for being such a wonderful dog companion. Our time together was far too short, but it was the time that we had, and I will always cherish Jelly for everything she added to my life. I pray she knew that I loved her just as much as she loved me.

It has been a struggle to come out of the darkness losing Jelly caused, but I knew I wanted to do something good out of this. Jelly would want that. I want to raise money to be able to donate to other pet parents whose pets may need something to help them have a rich and full life. Owning a pet and caring for them properly can be quite expensive, and my daughter and I are starting a fund to be able to give assistance to people whose pets that may need shots, or medicine, or even a costly surgery.

Thank you for your donation in honor of Jelly and thank you to everyone who knew and loved Jelly. She is surely missed and I want her memory to be one of helping others the way she helped me get through life.