Today, my baby girl is 8 years old. The day I went to the shelter, saw her face, and brought her home, is forever vividly etched in my mind. When I went in December and adopted Raven, I kept thinking of the day I carried another little girl out in my arms, who also rode in my lap as I drove home with her.
Tasha has been with me through both the most joyful time of my life, and the most crushing, despairing moment of my life. She has shared in all my joys and sorrows, the one constant in my life, her love and devotion unshakable.
Every laugh is accompanied by the thump of her tail, and the smiling glint in her eyes. Every tear shed is comforted by her head on my leg, her soft comforting tongue on my cheek. She is so in tune to me and my emotions. Her moods reflect my own. If I'm upset, she will simply refuse to touch her food, pacing and fretting instead. I could never have hoped to have such a loving and devoted companion, and all she asks in return is that I love her. And I certainly do, with all my heart. Happy birthday, my beautiful girl.
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