Beretta Baron

Since I learned how to write, I’ve kept a journal. It’s always been my coping tool and my favorite way to process things, especially when I can’t sleep… aka last night.

Andrew found Beretta through KSL (online classifieds) and picked her up when she was just 8 weeks old. Andrew had Beretta even before Knox was born.

I remember Andrew telling me about how much Beretta helped him through his divorce when Knox was just one years old. He was dealing with so much loneliness, but Beretta was by his side (and Knox’s) through it all.

When I first told my sister about Andrew, I told her that he had a chocolate lab. She was sleep-deprived with a newborn and assumed I meant a lab where chocolate was made. I remember that Andrew having a dog was a major plus for me because of Brooke’s strong connection to animals, especially dogs.

The first time they met, there was an INSTANT BOND. Andrew jokes with Brooke that she approved of Andrew quickly because of Beretta.

Andrew and I got married, and Beretta was constantly by Brooke’s side.

We called them the triplets because they were all so close in age.

And then she was there to bring Skye and Beck home from the hospital.

Never has there been a more patient and loving dog with children. Never.

She got more grey hair just like I did with each baby.

I’ll owe her forever for what she gave our children. She made them feel safe, loved, and adored every single day of her life.

She got us out for so many adventures together.

I have thousands of memories watching Andrew on the ground snuggling her.

I’m grateful for the miles we shared together on the trails. Beretta LOVED the snow, and it was hard to be grumpy about running in the cold with her because of how happy it made her. She made me feel safe for those years of Andrew working the night shift, she made us feel famous every time we got home from wherever we were, she made us laugh over her obsession with Goldfish crackers, and she was the best pillow for our family… physically and mentally. She was always there. I don’t think it has hit any of us yet that she is really gone.

On Sunday, she ran around the backyard as we were all sitting back there after dinner. On Monday morning, she seemed like herself and was moving normally for her. On Monday afternoon, Knox first noticed that she couldn’t walk anymore. I ran to the fridge to grab rotisserie chicken for her because it was one of her favorite things in the world. She wouldn’t eat it. That’s when we all knew.

We laid on the floor next to her for hours and cried. She didn’t move except for her eyes to look at each of us. Andrew called a vet who came over, assessed her, and told us it was time. I am so grateful for this vet. He talked to us a lot about grief, what to expect with the whole process, and never made us feel rushed in the slightest. I am grateful we were able to be home and do this together. It was a sacred experience that we will all never forget. There were a lot of tender mercies with the timing. We had hours to say our goodbyes. We weren’t on a trip and away from her. She had all of us surrounding her. With our family dynamics, someone is often missing, but we felt like Beretta made sure we were all there when it was time.

We stayed in bed all day together yesterday. We got out to take Max on a walk, and Beck said, “I think Beretta is here walking with us right now, too.”

The girls haven’t put her collar down, even snuggling it at night.

She left with her favorite ball, a bag of goldfish, and a picture of us.

Max is mourning his best friend, too. The vet told us it was important for Max to see Beretta leave with them and say goodbye once she had passed, because they can tell when there is no heartbeat. We find him looking for her at times, but we do think he knows she is gone.

We’ve been picturing Beretta sprinting after tennis balls the way she did before her hip started hurting her, eating unlimited people food, and swimming without getting tired up in heaven.

Thank you for all of your kind words. I am so grateful for this place to share and go through the highs and lows of life together.