Geneve came into our lives 10 years ago on September 19, 2014. We lost our sweet Redbone lady on March 1, 2024. I couldn't write for a while after she died. But when I finally started to write I couldn't stop, even when the tears started coming. It took even longer to sit and write her story as it seems so final. But I want to share how she changed our lives completely. There is so much to tell about our life with her.

Like how would wake up early and bark at us to get up for breakfast and a walk with my husband and then she would promptly take her mid-morning nap (true to her hound heritage, she loved a good nap). Unless it was raining. If it was raining, she would stay in bed until noon, maybe go outside for half an hour. She refused to go outside if it was raining. She loved the snow though. She got to wear her jacket and she would bound around and stick her entire face in to get to the smells, but as soon as it turned slushy she wanted nothing to do with it.

And how much she loved bed. She would get annoyed if we had friends over later than 8pm because she was ready for bed by 7:30pm. Her favorite place to sleep was in between us, under the covers. The funniest part is that my husband was adamant that no dog would sleep in the bed but the first night in her new home, Geneve jumped right up, curled into an impressively tight ball in the center of the bed, and refused to budge. Sometimes she would get so hot that she'd come out in the middle of the night panting. She would cool off, then stare and nose the covers until we lifted them up so she could get back under.

She loved to bark just for the sake of barking, loved to dig just for the smells. She loved to tear bark off trees; not eat it, just rip it off. She did eat the leaves though from the highest branch, standing on her hind legs and stretching out her neck like a giraffe.

She was my summer girl. We'd go on walks and lounge together on the back patio and go through the DQ drive-thru for a twist cone and a Pup Cup. She loved grilling with my husband; she would lick the grates and get all smoky and then I'd have to wash the sheets the next day. She didn't like peanut butter but could smell rotisserie chicken before it even made it into the house (at which point she lost all self-control). She also loved Glacier Freeze Gatorade, milk, tomato soup, Brussels sprouts and Whataburger fries and barbecue sauce. She didn't care much for toys. She liked the soft, squeaky ones on occasion. She did love rawhide chews, but not to chew. Instead, she went around the house burying it and re-burying it if she thought we knew where it was. This included in the basket of blankets, deep under the bed, inside my work bag, under a stack of books. She hated baths but got so frisky after. And she did demand her post-bath Greenie.

She was always there in the midst of loss and sickness and heartbreak and hurt. We've been through a lot in the past decade. I'm not sure either of us would be where we are now without her. Geneve was a reminder of hope and redemption. She had puppies and lost them, she had scars on her soft ears from days on her own before she was rescued, she was terrified of fireworks and thunder. But you would never know watching her live life with abandon.

In 2021, she had a splenectomy and her red fur began to turn white with age, but she fully recovered and never got the memo that she was getting old. She had so much energy. She would jump over the back of the sofa and do zoomies around the entire house. She also loved her inflatable cone so much we referred to it as her neck pillow. Then last August she started having seizures, which led to a diagnosis of an insulinoma. She started chemo and still, she seemed to be growing younger, not older. Our Benjamin Button Dog. And then suddenly we lost her.

There is a void where she used to be. She gave us so much joy. She lived with so much joy. She was so independent but so devoted. She was absolutely ridiculous. She was so sweet and so stubborn. She made so much mischief. She was such a comfort. She held us together again and again and again. She was so good. And she was so confident in how good she was (even when she wasn't).

I don't think we can ever fully express our gratitude for ABTCR for finding, saving, and giving us Geneve and for saving so many other pups and giving them fresh starts and full lives. Thank you for everything.

Grace and Scott

7 June 2024