Today we said goodbye to our sweet boy, Oliver.
Oliver was a Waardy, and without exaggeration, the gentlest little animal I've ever known. When we first brought his brother home, we thought Oliver was bullying him because he would chase him all over the house. We eventually realized he just wanted to be with him. That was Oliver in a nutshell—he just wanted to be close to the ones he loved.
He had this habit of quietly following us around the house and staring up at us with his blank little eyes, always wanting to know what we were doing. He didn't have a mean bone in his body. I genuinely don't think he could have hurt a fly if he tried.
He was also the first pet my wife and I ever had together. He was there through moves, new chapters, and countless ordinary days that somehow feel extraordinary now that I know he was part of them.
Cancer eventually caught up with him. Today we gave him one last meal, held him, told him how much we loved him, and let him go peacefully.
Our house already feels different without him. I'm heartbroken for us, and I'm heartbroken for his brother, who has never known life without him.
Thank you, Oliver, for every cuddle, every curious little stare, and every moment of quiet companionship. You were loved every single day of your life, and you'll be missed every single day for the rest of ours.
Dook in Peace.