My little popcorn bag, my best spoon dog, our beloved ghost troll, our cartoon character and rascal, our Toots, Tottelini, Tottelott. Best Totte. Now I have kissed your beautiful freckles for the last time, my hand has stroked your smooth ear for the last time and you have given me your quick nose kiss for the last time.

Here it is strangely quiet and empty – you took up so much space, you had opinions on everything, you always lay closest to me on the couch and slept under the covers next to me in bed. You couldn’t get close enough. If I got warm and moved, you moved shortly after and lay on me and slid down my side so you ended up as close as possible. Wherever I was, there you were. My hands always fiddled with you, you liked to be scratched around your ears and between your claws, for me to massage your slightly too large skin, to tickle you on the belly, which even as an old man you turned up and slept on like when you were a puppy.

I won’t think so much about how sick you were at times, your allergies, in your old age, pancreatitis, all the strange things you swallowed – the nail was the worst – and that we had to operate on, that we didn’t quite understand what was happening this last month, only that you were getting worse and I had promised you that you would be spared any more investigations and crap at the vet’s.

No, we who loved you – both your owners and Ludvig’s nieces and nephews who grew up with you, our families and close friends – will remember how you loved to swim, how you dipped your head blissfully into the water and let it run over your nose, how you could walk on for as long as possible, calmly and methodically, and the water couldn’t be too deep because you wanted to be able to walk a little. We will remember how you constantly stole food, bolder and bolder with the years, how you just walked past a child at your height and – swish – the sausage was gone from the child’s hand before anyone could blink, how we shared sushi and ice cream – you sat in the front seat next to me in the car and demanded your share. How you lay next to the children on the couch and let them pat you all over with their little hands, how little K, when he had just learned to walk, in a short unsupervised moment, stood and balanced through a firm grip on your upper lip while you sat still watching me so that I could come to the rescue. I will remember how you stole the retrieves from the other dogs when we trained – you had spot on marks and a good memory – and everything you could do, all the tricks you gladly did, your absolutely perfect deliveries (better than any of the other dogs), your tracking that you loved and did as soon as you got the chance.

I’m flipping through old pictures and smiling that most of the pictures are cozy pictures; you often lay in my or one of the owners’ arms and half-slept. That’s how you fell asleep for the last time too, at home on the couch, in my arms yesterday. After a nice day with a walk in the woods, after eating bones, getting to hang out with both me and Ludvig and walking in the woods and getting lots of freshly cooked stewed pieces, the vet came to our house. You, who hate the vet’s office, greeted him happily, noticed the barely felt needle prick in your thigh because it was stewed pieces

But we are so grateful! You were almost thirteen years old, and you have left a big paw print on our hearts that will never disappear. We are so grateful for all the funny and silly memories, that we got to have you for so long, that you gave us so much, and that the end couldn’t have been better.

Dear little Totte, we have loved you so much. <3