Dear Brady, I'm sorry. 

Sorry that I didn't make it back in time to hold you alive. Sorry that I had no idea that Sunday was our last farewell, when you peeked out of the car window and stared at me with your usual longing eyes (oh, those woeful eyes!). Sorry if I made you seem like you were second-fiddle to Max. Sorry if I didn't pay you enough attention because of Max's recent health issues. 

I hope you know that you were the best derpy dog and most faithful companion in our household. I hope you know that we all cared so much for you - Dad always praised you for being a really hardworking watch-dog, barking at any stranger that came close to the house, despite your diminutive size. I hope that you led a full and meaningful life; I've only ever wanted what was best for you.

I'm still partly in shock at your passing, because you had no ailments, and you went so quickly and so suddenly. Maybe you went to the porch because you were waiting for me, or maybe you had no idea what was happening to you. Our only comfort is that you didn't suffer for too long, and you went to sniff Max in the morning, as if you had bade him farewell. Perhaps it is a blessing that you left before Max, since you would probably be heart-broken if it was the other way. I've always liked that you were such an easy dog to care for (although it was odd that you never paid much heed to food or toys). Sure, you were fierce and could be needy at times, but you were never too stubborn or dominant, and all you had wanted was attention and gentle strokes. I was certain that we'd have a few more years together, but life is fragile, and proved me wrong. 

Go into the light, my sweet little furry monster, I miss you so so much...