Fiona
Name: Fiona
Date of Passing: 08/31/2023
Tell us about Fiona: Dogs find the people who need them most. Unaware of just how much we needed Fiona, she quickly became our core. Her je ne sais quoi essence, smile, love of adventure, and profound emotional intelligence provided the comfort me and the girls needed during many a tough time.
Fiona found me running in the Ruidoso mountains and never left my side—happily joining my training runs, hiking with us every weekend, playing ball till our arms failed, and even x-country skied and canoed— until a few years ago when her body decided it had had enough. 
Fiona the Dog grew up with Carmen and Fiona, and grew old with me. When I was injured, she walked me. When she was hurt, I carried her. These past 5 months have been rough. We walked each other, slowly, to the doggie fountain, to the park, to see her friends and get treats from the Mailman. Often in pain, we diligently walked, enjoying our companionship and mutual love, knowing our final moments together were peeking around the corner.
Yesterday we had to say goodbye. Her cancer was misery, her anguish unbearable. The decision to end her life was the toughest gut-wrenching choice we have ever made. For me it underscored just how fragile love is, how short life is, and how close the last corner of my own life is.
Our family has lost our guiding light, our comfort, our anchor. To know Fiona was to love her. Fiona The Dog: 2006-8/31/2023.
Date of Passing: 08/31/2023
Tell us about Fiona: Dogs find the people who need them most. Unaware of just how much we needed Fiona, she quickly became our core. Her je ne sais quoi essence, smile, love of adventure, and profound emotional intelligence provided the comfort me and the girls needed during many a tough time.
Fiona found me running in the Ruidoso mountains and never left my side—happily joining my training runs, hiking with us every weekend, playing ball till our arms failed, and even x-country skied and canoed— until a few years ago when her body decided it had had enough. 
Fiona the Dog grew up with Carmen and Fiona, and grew old with me. When I was injured, she walked me. When she was hurt, I carried her. These past 5 months have been rough. We walked each other, slowly, to the doggie fountain, to the park, to see her friends and get treats from the Mailman. Often in pain, we diligently walked, enjoying our companionship and mutual love, knowing our final moments together were peeking around the corner.
Yesterday we had to say goodbye. Her cancer was misery, her anguish unbearable. The decision to end her life was the toughest gut-wrenching choice we have ever made. For me it underscored just how fragile love is, how short life is, and how close the last corner of my own life is.
Our family has lost our guiding light, our comfort, our anchor. To know Fiona was to love her. Fiona The Dog: 2006-8/31/2023.