01/20/2026
January 20, 2008–November 21, 2025
Two months ago, I had to say goodbye to Fritz. It has taken me two months to be able to write that single sentence.
Fritz was born on a horse farm in upstate New York in 2008, and spent the next seventeen years, ten months, and one day by my side. By daytime, he watched over the house and lazed in the sun. At night, he snuggled up close to me under the covers. When I was sad, he put his paw on my hand. When I was happy, he licked my nostrils. He loved any kind of food. He hated golden retrievers. He loved his brother, Bruno. He hated being approached by strangers. He loved warm laundry. He hated being cold. He loved his dragon, Gwyneth. He could see into alternate dimensions. His breath was terrible. His karaoke song was “Happy Birthday.” He loved bathrooms. He hated disorder. He loved squeaky toys. He loved me.
He was the best dog in the whole world, and I love him so, so much.
Doodle, Fritzy, Fritzy Doodle, Fritzy Doodle Dandy, Doodlebug, Buggy, Peanut, Peanut Butter, Peanut Brittle, Spookytooth, Little Guy, Mister Fritz, Baby Dog, Pooch, Buddy, Fritzer, Ramp Champ, Bat Mite. Fritz.
I miss my dog. We met when I was thirty-two, and said goodbye when I was fifty.
The deep sadness that I feel is balanced by the knowledge that Fritz had an absolutely amazing life, full of adventures both big and small. He was allowed to be a chihuahua, and was celebrated for his peculiarities and desire for both independence and attention (in very specific amounts, of course). As he aged and mellowed and his needs changed, I adapted my life to revolve around his in new ways, wanting nothing more than to ensure he would not experience fear, pain, or loneliness. Fritz died in my arms, his favorite place in the world, knowing nothing other than comfort and safety.
Fritz gave me an immeasurable amount of profound joy, love, comfort, and true companionship over the course of seventeen years, ten months, and one day. He gave my life meaning, and I will carry with me forever the lessons I learned from him as he navigated life as a tiny guy in a big world. Caring for him was an honor.
Happy birthday, Fritz. I love you.
