I’ve been sitting with my feelings for a while now, trying to find the words to express just how much Hopper meant to me—and how deeply I’ve been affected by his loss. But sometimes, words just don’t seem to do justice to the bond we shared, the love we gave him, and the hole his absence has left in my heart.

Hopper was a stray—a little soul I had seen wandering around the neighborhood for some time. He was always skittish, always keeping his distance from people, and he had this limp that told me he’d been through something rough. Thanksgiving of last year (2020), when the weather was bitterly cold, I saw him again. And this time, I couldn’t shake the feeling that I needed to do something for him.

He was so afraid of people, of me, but I had this sense that there was a connection waiting to be made. The day after Thanksgiving, I almost had him. I got close enough that we made eye contact, and I could see this small spark of trust. He nipped at me, but I didn’t back away. Instead, I offered him some ham, and to my surprise, he let me pet him. It wasn’t much, but it was enough for me to feel that bond.

And then, as quickly as he allowed me in, he ran off.

For the next month, I tried everything to get him to come back to me. I’d see him around, but he was always so fearful. Every time I got close, he would run. As December rolled around, with the cold weather getting even more severe, I couldn’t stop worrying about him. I was desperate to help, so I reached out to an animal rescue organization, and with their help, we finally managed to catch him.

When we got him to the vet, we discovered he was microchipped, and his previous owners were located. They told us he’d been "missing" for five years. I won’t get into the details of his past, but suffice it to say, I wasn’t going to let him go back. They agreed to sign a waiver, allowing me to be his new "mom."

After this, we took him back to the vet for a full check-up. His back leg, the one with the limp, was examined, and the vet confirmed the injury was old—too old to repair. The vet said it would cause him more pain to try fixing it, so the best thing we could do was let him live out his life, comfortably and happily.

And that’s exactly what we did. We pampered him, made him feel safe, and loved him with all we had. Slowly but surely, he gained weight—30 pounds—and started looking healthy and strong. But there were times when he’d still seem a little cranky, and we assumed it was the trauma of his past life on the streets.

1 Month difference!

Poor Baby was SOOOOO Skinny…

Then came August 9th—a day I will never forget. Hopper collapsed. He began to have seizures, and I knew something was terribly wrong. We rushed him to the animal emergency center, but the news we received was heartbreaking. He had cancer. It had consumed his body, and the vet did everything possible to stabilize him, but it was too late. He went into cardiac arrest, and despite the vet's best efforts, he couldn’t be saved.

I am absolutely broken, still today… Months later.

It’s hard to put into words how much I miss him. Hopper was more than just a dog; he was a survivor, a fighter, and a reminder that love can heal the deepest wounds. I will always treasure the time we had together, and I’m so grateful that we could give him the comfort and love he deserved after years of struggle.

He came to me as a stray, broken and lost, and I was so proud to give him a home where he could feel safe. In return, he gave me love, companionship, and a sense of purpose. The short time we had together may not have been enough, but it was everything.

I’ll never forget you, Hopper. You will always have a special place in my heart. Rest in peace, my sweet boy. ❤️

Hopper: A Journey of Love, Loss, and Heartbreak

My Fair Ladybug