Lulu has been a part of our family since 2017; she was adopted through a local rescue and I can remember that day almost to a T. We spent 4 hours at this adoption event and kept coming back to her crate. Then, near the end of our time there as I put my fingers through the gaps in the crate, she licked my hand. From there, I knew she was it.
We – my husband, she, and I – had amazing memories and captured as many moments as we could. Every new toy, every move to a different place, we always made sure to document our time together as a tiny little family. Fast forward to February 2024, things changed. Food was not finished, she grew more tired, and she eventually stopped drinking as much as she would. We were told by an ER vet that they believed it to be late stage renal failure. They told us she had anywhere from weeks to months left of her life. We were left with few options, but we chose to do at home care for her. After many vet visits, tests, multitudes of different medicines, prescribed foods, home care, she was bouncing back.
The next year and a half was a rollercoaster regarding her health (weight, mostly). After one of her moments of weight and muscle loss during the summer, we went to a doctor that could do a very thorough screening, where she was officially diagnosed with CKD (Chronic Kidney Disease), as well as kidney stones in both kidneys. Surgery at her age would be risky and may not be a success long term. We decided to do what we can and hope for the best. Deep down we knew she would not be around much longer but we had no idea when. All I personally wanted was for her to be around for the birth of her little brother. Luckily, that happened.
Lulu peacefully passed with her family around her on December 14, just shy of Christmas. Although the grief is deep because we feel she could have had more time with us, we appreciate every single day she was with us, and are proud of her stubbornness and her will to fight through her illness. If you were to ask me if I would go through this again – the good, bad, ugly – I would 100 times say yes.


