08/18/2026
Bonnie’s tail still thumped when she saw me this morning, and that nearly broke me.
We got the lung cancer diagnosis yesterday. She had one pretty good day, but late last night her breathing got worse. This morning she still looked up at me, gave that tired Golden tail wag and tried to bring me one of my old slippers like everything was normal. That was Bonnie—always convinced something good was about to happen. I wanted another day more than I can explain, but I promised I’d never make her suffer because I couldn’t let go.
She’d already battled one health problem after another. On our final car ride she kept looking straight at me, tail tapping softly against the seat. I hate knowing where that ride ended, but I kept my promise. Rest easy, Bonnie. Your old dad Everett misses that happy face already.
