On July 7th, I had to say goodbye to one of the greatest loves of my life—my dog, Dorcas. Her loss has left a massive hole in my heart and in our family. I adopted her on February 28, 2019, from the humane society after she had survived a horrific start to life—emaciated, scarred, and suffering from untreated mastitis so severe it was mistaken for cancer. But you’d never know it by the way she lived. She was pure joy, full of love, strength, mischief, and relentless resilience. She grew into a muscular, food-loving goofball who believed every visitor existed to rub her velvety-soft belly. She destroyed every screen door and tie-out we tried because she was just that determined (and maybe just a little too strong for her own good). We often joked her big head was filled with ground beef instead of brains—but what she lacked in sense, she made up for in heart.

Dorcas collapsed the morning of July 7th after struggling to breathe. What we thought was a worsening of a previously diagnosed partial laryngeal paralysis turned out to be something far worse—a fast-growing tumor in her throat. She wasn’t stable enough to be moved for treatment, and the prognosis for such a tumor was grim even if we could. I made the only loving choice I could and held her as she passed. She looked peaceful for the first time in hours. The vet gave me her collar, and I walked out carrying it in shaking hands, while she stayed behind in a freezer at the hospital.

It’s been nearly three weeks. The hospital has been incredibly patient, but they can’t hold her forever. The cost to cremate her privately and bring her ashes home—including transport, urn, and memorial pieces—is $350. I’ve been trying to raise the money on my own, but I am a single mom of two, currently on disability, and behind on bills. I don’t have anything left to give financially. The alternative is a group cremation or mass burial where I won’t ever be able to visit her or bring her home—and that’s a thought I can’t bear. She was my best girl, and she deserves more than that.

If you’re able to help—even a few dollars—it would mean the world to me. It would allow me to honor Dorcas’s memory with the dignity, respect, and love she gave so freely in her too-short life. Thank you for reading, and for helping bring her home where she belongs.