I lost my best friend today. She has loved me every day for 14 years. Not many can say that. L.E. will forever be a legend in my book. We picked her out of a littler of beagles the day before Hurricane Charley hit Central Florida on August 12, 2004. She was the runt of the litter and seemed scared of life and the hurricane certainly didn’t help. Her mom’s name was Freckles and L.E. had them too. We were going to name her Bagel until we noticed her ears dragging on the floor. She had Long Ears, and the name stuck.

L.E. was a diva. She loved who she wanted, when she wanted, and it always worked out for her. She would bite you if if she didn’t like you and even if she liked you she’d still use that as a warning to leave her alone. She was the queen of introverts but when you called her over she would run and sit in your lap, happy as a clam.

She was a dog of adventures. She loved riding on the tube as a raft in the lake, scavenging for rabbits or cats in the yard, getting in to trash like a raccoon, and following her nose on long hikes by the river. But what she loved best was sitting at the helm of our boat having the wind flap her ears and having new scents hit her nose.

In 2013, I drove to New York City on my own and drove L.E. half way to meet my brother in North Carolina. She sat beside me in my Acura Vigor like she owned the place. She loved it until we hit South Carolina and lost AC. As a way to re-earn her love, I took her to Starbucks to get her some ice water. She seemed to tolerate me again after that. She was always up for the ride but was the type that would tell you she loved it after the fact. But even in those moments you could lean in and whisper, ‘Kisses’, and she’d give them all the same.

L.E. aged really well, but the last few months have taken quite a toll. We knew this day was coming. Dementia is an evil thing and attacked her in a wicked way. She became restless and would only stop to stare at walls in confusion. She started using the bathroom inside and wouldn’t stop going to the bathroom outside. Her brain was failing, but her body seemed OK. She looked normal and healthy and she still loved going on long walks. The hardest thing was realizing that her brain was part of her body and it failing meant other parts were going to start too.

I am trying to hold on to today. It’s the last time in my life where I can say I saw her today. We FaceTimed this morning and though I cried the whole time, it was intimate and special. We have been thanking her for being such a good friend. I was honored to thank her for the last time today. Thank you, L.E. belly.

We have been having some hard time in our family and today L.E. brought us together. We all talked on the phone or texted like everything was normal. I am so thankful to her for that. Again, thank you.

I am mourning the best way I know how. Her last meal was beef jerky so I had some too. My friend Jen and I watched the sunset on my balcony and toasted to her. We then collected white flowers. They are prettier than ever and have already brought life to my room and my soul.

Even though life was hard for her in the end, it was still hard for us to let go. But I think she was ready a while ago. She hasn’t been herself and there must have been some frustration in there for her in that. Today we told her to let go and to be free. Now I am just trying to do the same.

I don’t want to go bed tonight because I don’t want to lose the ability to say I saw her today. I am sad and my heart is heavy. It’s never easy losing a friend like this. She’s my favorite shotgun rider in the world. And I will miss her forever. Thank you L.E. I love you.