I’m writing this post with tears streaming down my cheeks and the biggest knot in my stomach… because sweet Caroline is gone.

She crossed the rainbow bridge on Monday, and devastated is an understatement. She hasn’t been doing well for a couple of years – she’d have a rough week and always seem to pull through – but knowing that it was coming didn’t make it any easier. In some ways, it’s made it even harder and more heartbreaking.

We got Caroline from a Cavalier Kings Charles rescue when Liv was a toddler. We drove to Phoenix, where they had multiple cavaliers running around from the puppy mill in Arkansas that had been shut down, and Caroline was the one Liv had to have. She was the smallest, most timid one, hiding in the corner, shaking.

“Are you sure you want this one?”

“Yes, I want this one.”

We drove her home and gave her lots of snuggles and food. For the first year or so, she remained timid, yet extremely sweet (even while receiving some occasional harassment from Bella). When we adopted Caroline, she was used to doing everything in a crate outside: it’s where she ate, did her business, and also birthed multiple rounds of puppies, as she was a young mama dog for the puppy mill.

When we brought her home, she had never walked on grass.

While she was still recovering from everything she endured, we quickly learned about Caro and her two favorite things: sleep and belly rubs. The girl could snore, too. She had the loudest, most satisfying snores, and it made my heart happy that she was able to fully relax after the horrible first couple of years of her life.

She rode in the wagon with Liv on our daily walks,

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