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Have you ever thought that 18 years could pass as quickly as a dream? For me, and for my entire family, that’s the story of Bubba—a snow-white Samoyed with mischievous blue eyes and a heart warmer than any fireplace. Today, we say goodbye to Bubba, not with sadness, but with a farewell full of love and gratitude.

Bubba’s story began 18 years ago on a rainy day, when he was just a tiny fluffball lost in my mother’s arms. My mom, a woman who wasn’t particularly fond of dogs, fell in love with Bubba at first sight. She named him Bubba, an affectionate term reserved only for those you truly love.

Bubba grew, not only in size but also in influence within our home. He wasn’t just a dog; he was a family member, a mischievous younger brother, and a confidant to my mom. On evenings when she sat reading, Bubba would rest his head on her lap, listening to her whisper all sorts of stories about life. When I came home from school, Bubba would be the first one to run to the door, wagging his tail with joy, no matter how soundly he was sleeping.

As the years passed, Bubba became a witness to all our family’s joys and sorrows. When I had a broken heart, he would lie quietly beside me, nudging his head into my hand as if to say, “Everything will be okay.” When the whole family gathered for holidays, Bubba would run around, playing with the children, filling the house with boisterous laughter. The white fur on his head gradually turned yellow with age, but his bright blue eyes still sparkled with intelligence and boundless love.

In his final years, Bubba’s health declined significantly. He struggled to walk, his eyes grew dim, and his naps became longer. My mom, the strongest woman I know, couldn’t hold back her tears. She held Bubba in her arms, stroking his fur that was no longer as soft as it used to be. Last night, she whispered to me, “I think Bubba is tired, my child. He has lived such a full and happy life. It’s time for us to let him rest.”

Today, we took Bubba. There were no tears, just gentle strokes and soft whispers. My mom, in the photo I took, still held Bubba tightly, her face nestled in his white fur. Bubba’s eyes, still looking straight into the camera, seemed to be saying goodbye. I believe he understood. He understood that the love he received was priceless, and this departure was the last gift we could give him.

Bubba has gone to “doggy heaven,” where he can run and play without feeling any more pain. But Bubba’s spirit remains here, in every corner of our home, in every memory, and above all, in our hearts. 18 years wasn’t a dream; it was a lifetime, a life worth living. And we, who loved Bubba, will forever be grateful to have had him in our lives.