Rosie is a senior Puggle with a crooked little smile and a gift for making herself part of every room. She followed me through the house and pressed close whenever I sat down. While I met with clients, she slept beneath my work desk or curled up behind me, where clients could see her—and hear her snoring. Her snoring became such a familiar part of the workday that I eventually bought noise-canceling headphones.
For more than half of her life, I shared the daily care at the center of our bond: meals, walks, veterinary appointments, insurance, medication, comfort, and the quiet repetition through which an animal learns where home is.
After my long engagement ended, Rosie remained primarily in my care, continuing the routine we had established over the years. In March 2025, she was removed. My requests for her return, mediation, visitation, and continued contact did not reunite us.
This story can be told without turning anyone into a public character. Its focus is Rosie: the life she lived, the relationships she formed, the care she depended upon, and the legal system that had no meaningful way to consider her wellbeing.
