This is Nox’s story.

I wanted to write it out before I forget any of it. I hate to think I will forget anything with her, but memories are a fickle thing. This is more for me than you, but I know some people are curious so this will let you know. But let me preface with anything I write will not break the surface of how much love this dog had for me and how much I had for her.

She was the best dog ever, and I know that everyone says that about their dogs: but she actually was.

To tell her story, I have to tell a little of mine. I started looking into getting a dog for the purpose of training said dog to be a service dog. Nox simply fell into my lap. I found her and contacted her owner, and we talked and soon enough she was mine. They were so thankful of the home she was going to that I didn’t have to pay for an adoption fee. It was perfect. We couldn’t believe it.

I was so nervous the night before meeting her. I was so worried that she wouldn’t like me. Let me preface this: I grew up with dogs, but I was never a ‘dog person’. I was selective about the dogs I loved. Not any dog would make me happy. In fact, very few did. The ones I grew up with I loved but I never saw myself getting a dog.

And then, suddenly I was getting a dog and I was so nervous. I met her precious little self and she immediately came over and kissed me. It relaxed my nerves for that day, but only for that day. I was a nervous wreck of a mother. Nox and I traveled to Auburn the next day and I learned how to be a parent. It was stressful but this girl was so sweet. She just followed me everywhere.

We grew inseparable, we went to obedience training and she was easily the most improved in the class and got on top rather quickly. She had an extreme love of squirrels and often would try to jump through the car window to chase them. She never meant any harm, but she loved little creatures.

She got along well with my cat, they both just wanted to play. Isabelle pretended not to like my dog, but she was always put out when I would take Nox away from her.

Training went well and I socialized her. My friends fell in love. Every person I met who wasn’t a dog person, became one for her. When I asked people what dog they wanted they would just point to her. She was so happy and loving and sweet. But her loyalty was exceptionally strong. Someone would love on her or pet her and she would come back to me, remind me that I am her favorite and then go back to the person. Often times she would stop loving them and look at me to make sure I was okay with it. It was adorable.

She liked to give you kisses, but not just any kisses. She would jump up high and lick your lips. I had to turn it into a command so I could limit the amount of black eyes received. She was so fast too, she could run and be gone in a blink of an eye. She could have done agility.

Nox became attached to me, and I to her. She never left my side and I am not exaggerating. She followed me everywhere, sat under my feet, her eyes were always on me. It made my friends laugh because all she wanted was to be next to me. We snuggled and watched movies and she helped me cook by sitting on my feet in the kitchen. She had a natural knack for being close. Everyone noticed it, this dog was the most attentive and loving that they’d ever seen. If I went into a room without her, I would always hear her sniff under the door. When I opened it she would be leaning against it, waiting for me and looking up at me with big brown eyes.

She had huge expressive brown eyes, and she knew how to work them. Her eyelashes were perfect, they looked drawn. Her ears crimped when they got wet, and they became lighter the closer to her body they came. Her fur was so soft, though her skin was sometimes dry. She had cute white socks, a white couple of hairs on her tail that shined when she shook it and curled up over her back. The fur on her back cow-licked in the summer, sticking straight up. She had a white star on her chest. She would often times lick her lips and it looked so damn cute. She would rest her head on the ground and just look up at me. I miss her gaze so much.

When I went to the lake and jumped in the water, Nox would wait approximately three seconds and if I didn’t reemerge from the water she would come in after me. She then wouldn’t know what to do once she got to me. We ended up putting her on a floating device so that I could swim and she could be next to me.

And then service training began. She was the best in her class, she finished in one session when it normally took two. She was so fast and so excited to get the scent correctly. She was good at her job, alerting me at a party with her cute paws and telling eyes.

A relationship with a service dog is so much more intense than a normal dog, and our relationship before the life saving actions came into play was unusual and deep. I don’t know how to explain... that this was different. We were different. She was one in a million. We were soul mates.

I thought 2015 was going to be the worst year of my life. I was trying to find my place in the world; trying to find a job, trying not to feel like a failure. It turned out to be the best year of my life. I met the love of my life and she made the world a better place. Everyone loved her, everyone threatened to steal her away. She would pout when I left her at home, not being social with anyone else.

She was simple the most loving dog. Everyone saw how special she was, and how unique our relationship was. She went everywhere with me, on planes, buses, trains, to work and home, to the grocery store or to go fix my car. She even went to Disney World and man she was a champ. She rode rides with me, she traveled more than some humans will in their entire life.

Nox had a special growl and bark that she administered if you came home and waited a second too long to pay attention to her. She would sneak onto the couch, one leg at a time. She was clumsy and awkward and adorable.

When I put her service vest on she would get very proud. She’d puff her chest up and prance as she walked. Every so often she would just lift her nose and give me a little kiss on my hand as we walked around in public. It surprised me every time, and always made me smile.

She changed my life. She made me fall in love with her and I couldn’t image my life without her. I had this conversation with a tow truck driver at the beginning of this road trip. I told him I’d only had her for ten months but I couldn’t imagine my life without her.

I feel that moment is when I jinxed it all.

Nox was a happy dog, she was widely loved and spoiled. She was able to go everywhere with her mom, got treats and love from family and friends and always made people smile. I know I made her extremely happy, and she made me stronger. Moving to LA had never scared me, because I knew she would be there.

I won’t tell you everything that went wrong on this road trip; that is a whole other story. But I can tell you what happened to Nox.

It started on Wednesday, January 6^th. She woke us up, super happy and slowly inching her way from our feet to our faces, licking us the whole time. Nox and I had spooned the whole night. I got up to give her breakfast and she always sits and waits patiently. I put the food down and tell her to wait, and she would slowly lift her head higher and higher until I told her to 'feast'. She ate everything and we went on our way to the Caverns we had driven to. I left Nox inside the car, as it would just be a lot to bring her on this little hike. When we got back, she had thrown up her breakfast. We didn’t think much of it, we’ve been driving nonstop and living in a camper. Perhaps she got nervous or perhaps she was just a little car sick. We cleaned it up and I took her out to go to the bathroom and she had diarrhea. It still had some solid so I wasn’t too worried. We started our drive to the next area in New Mexico; driving through the middle of nowhere when she vomited again. We stopped the car and she vomited four more times and had diarrhea, this time mostly liquid and looked like dark ketchup. I called my parents and the vet. They told me to wait it out, it could be a stomach virus or she could be sick. Nerves didn’t quite fit but they said wait 12 hours, and definitely take her in if she wasn’t better in 24.

The next four hour drive turned to be six as we frequently stopped to clean the car and help Nox out. She still walked with her tail up and seemed like she didn’t feel well, but nothing too serious. That evening she was exhausted, she didn’t stand for long and just wanted to lay down. Her vomiting and diarrhea had calmed down significantly, but I called my family worried again. They told me a good point that settled my nerves a bit: if I had been vomiting all day, wouldn’t I be tired?

Wait until the morning, if she’s still not better take her to a vet. That is what I was told, over and over. And it is what I told myself. I hoped she’d sleep it off. We weren’t anywhere near a vet at the moment and it was ten at night. There wasn't much of an option for us, anyway.

Nox slept in her crate that night, and I woke up early because I heard her moving around. I went to check on her and there was blood everywhere and she wouldn’t get out of her crate. She couldn't move. I called my mom, woke up Paul and raced to the nearest vet, forty miles away.

By the time I arrived, Nox was dead weight. She couldn’t stand and couldn’t get out of the crate; using Paul’s help I rushed her into the vet. Her head lolled to the side, she wasn’t breathing.

They revived her three times.

The vet was a husband and wife duo, and the wife came out to talk to me. Asking me questions about her and what she could have gotten into. We wracked our brains around for an answer, but we got nothing. She was by me the whole time, always on her leash and her food hadn’t changed. A new bag, but same brand. We checked it for mold, we looked to see if there was something in the RV she could have eaten and then we thought about every walk I took her on. Nothing.

They said they’d never seen a dog go from being perfectly normal the day before to where she was at. They said it wasn’t looking good.

I asked if I could see her and they let me. She was freezing cold and they had hot water bottles and blankets to keep her warm. I started to pet her and talk to her. She heard me. Her breathing got stronger. I stayed with her until the vets politely kicked me out as they had other surgeries to preform that morning.

We left and played the waiting game. I called back in around two and asked about her and they said she was sitting up and looking around. She still had blood in her stomach and they had a stomach tube in to get it out. They don’t know where all of this was coming from, they said it looked kind of maybe like salmonella but it didn’t quite fit. Every theory was debunked by the fact that she wasn’t even two years old. They suggested that I move her to the animal hospital in Alburquerque, they were more specialized and could perhaps find out what was wrong. I was on my way back to figure out how to move her when she had a seizure. She was gone for two to three minutes this time. But they brought her back, again.

The husband told me brain damage was a likely issue at this point, and I should be prepared. They still don’t know what caused everything.

I went to see her again and I stayed with her for an hour, this time her eyes were open and she was starting to focus but it wasn’t quite right. I stayed, told her how beautiful she was and strong and how she was going to take care of me in LA. I talked to her for hours until it was five and they were closing. She nearly had a seizure while I was there, but they stopped it and stabilized it.

My aunt happened to be working in Albuquerque and came down to help deal with everything. She got us a hotel room, we made it there when we got another phone call. I already knew what it was before Jen told me.

She had had another seizure, she died for the fifth time and she was no longer breathing on her own.

She was brain dead.

My beautiful, smart, healthy, young, loving best friend was gone.

The anger I felt in that moment was more intense and more real than anything I've ever felt in my life. But the moment Jen walked back around to tell me what the phone call had meant, I pulled back the anger. And then it was gone. And all I felt was empty, and helpless.

I preferred the anger.

We went back to the vet and you could see that she was gone. She had started to breathe on her own by the time we arrived, but there wasn’t any saving her. I said goodbye from my family, friends, the people she loved most. And I told her goodbye. I apologized for not being able to save her. I told her it was okay to go. I kissed her and I watched her go.

The husband turned to me with tears in his eyes, he told me he had never brought a dog back this many times. In his 20+ years of being a vet, he had never seen a dog fight so hard.

She came back from the dead five times to be with me. She fought so bravely. She was so incredibly loyal.

Losing her is the hardest thing I have ever had to deal with. She was the world’s greatest dog, and she will be incredibly missed and never forgotten.

(This story was Nox’s and not mine, so I haven’t mentioned the incredible support system my friends and family, blood and not blood have given me. I wouldn’t have survived this without my best friend, Paul being by my side and certainly not without my Aunt’s help that day. I couldn’t have survived this without my family only a phone call away, even at three in the morning, just to listen to me cry. Thank you to everyone who Nox touched. I’m glad she will live on in all of your hearts.)