Cleo (April 10, 2013 - March 11, 2026)

Today I had to say goodbye to my beloved Cleo. Here she is, just two days before her death, holding my hand as she so frequently did. 

Cleo was my tenure gift to myself. We rescued her from a difficult situation in her birthplace of Alabama. She came to us with mange, dysentery, and a giant abscess on her chest. She was so tiny that we would hold the compress in place with one of my tube socks.

She grew up to be so beautiful.

Despite being big and strong, Cleo never completely conquered her fear of the unknown from the earliest and scariest parts of her life. But if you made it into her inner circle, she was an absolutely amazing dog. She was goofy, often flashing her signature toothy grin. She would bounce around the room and make funny noises until you played with her--often not settling for anything short of highly spirited play.

 

She was also immensely sweet. She loved her older sister Frida more than anything. In her last moments, she and Frida locked eyes until she drifted off.

And she loved me too. 

And I learned so much from loving her back. I don't think I knew what it was like to be fiercely protective of anyone until I was Cleo's doggy daddy. It changed my bad days. I knew that my worst day still had to be good enough to get her through her day, and that's something I've tried to carry forward as a partner, a friend, and an educator. 

I also really loved to be close to her--we had a kind of quiet closeness that didn't require anything more than literally being there for each other. Here she is resting peacefully on my leg in her last hours.

I will love you and will miss you forever, Baby Bear.