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Remembering Izzy: A Little Yorkie Who Left Paw Prints on My Heart

This is Izzy’s story, but to tell her story the right way, I have to begin with the ones who came before her.

Some pets come into our lives quietly. Some arrive as surprises. Some stay for years, shaping our routines, our homes, our hearts, and our memories. Then there are the special ones who seem to leave a mark so deep that even after they are gone, we still feel them beside us. Izzy was that kind of pet.

She was very special, full of personality, and she never knew a stranger. But Izzy came into my life because another little Yorkie named Tessa had passed away. Like Izzy, Tessa was one of those special pets who steal your heart and leaves her mark on your heart.

Tessa, the Little Mother’s Day Gift

Like Izzy, Tessa was one of those special pets who stole your heart and left her mark on your heart.

She was a Mother’s Day gift from my children. She was tiny, only about as big as my son’s hand when he carried her in as a surprise. From that moment on, she became my little shadow.

I took Tessa everywhere with me. She sat in my purse, loved to ride in the car, and brought joy wherever we went. She was a true little companion, and I had her for 13 wonderful years. She loved to wear bows in her hair and look beautiful.

The day Tessa passed away was one of the scariest and saddest days I can remember.

She had been in a doggie parade at an assisted living community and had won first place. Even with all the fun around us, I could tell she was not feeling quite right, so we started home. Once we got there, I fed her, and everything seemed normal again. Then bedtime came.

Tessa let out the worst screaming sound I had ever heard and dropped to the floor. I scooped her up in a blanket and rushed to the emergency vet hospital about 10 minutes from my home. But as we walked through the hospital doors, she passed away in my arms. I was heartbroken.

I called my daughter, and she came immediately. Over the next few months, I was depressed and deeply sad. I had never been without a pet in my home, and although I still had my aging cat, Tibby, the quiet left by Tessa was hard to bear.

I decided to find a Yorkie puppy and located a well-known Arkansas breeder who was known for healthy, beautiful puppies. The breeder would be coming to Canton, Texas, about 2 hours from us, over the weekend. She had several puppies for sale, and they were all beautiful.

We walked away and came back more than once so I could hold them and try to choose. There were two little girls I really loved, but I could not decide between them. So I brought home not one, but two beautiful little 12-week-old Yorkie girls.

That is where Izzy came in. I named her Izzy because she was always curious and busy with something. Her sister I named Briley, which was also the name of my son’s business. I simply liked the name.

My cat Tibby immediately decided these two 12-week-old girls were her babies. She groomed them, slept with them, ate with them, and watched them closely while they played. It was like she had taken over as their little mother.

Izzy was different. She would have a bow out of her hair in less than two minutes. She refused to wear the cute little outfits. She had her own mind, her own style, and her own little busy way of moving through life. That was Izzy.

Losing Briley Too Soon

When both girls turned one in February, I took them to be spayed, as my vet recommended. They had gone to the groomer a few days before, all cleaned up and ready to celebrate their first birthdays. Briley had her little purple bows in and both had matching collars.

I had all the bloodwork done before surgery, and both girls appeared to be fine. They took Izzy in first, and everything went well. Then they took Briley back, with her bows still in her hair.

When the doctor came out, I expected him to say she was in recovery, just as they had said for Izzy. But that was not what he said.

The vet sadly told me that Briley had not awakened after surgery. She had died in recovery. What? I could not believe what I was hearing. My beautiful little girl was gone at one year of age. They think she must have had an allergic reaction, but were not sure. She had been monitored, gone through the surgery, but did not wake up as expected. I had never heard of an animal passing away after being spayed. I had spayed many cats and dogs over the years, and it never occurred to me that this could happen.

I learned a valuable lesson that day after taking Izzy home alone. I wish I had let Izzy see her sister and understand that Briley was gone. No one had ever told me to do that. I did not know.

After losing Briley, my cat Tibby was never the same. Within the month, Tibby passed away, too. Some said she was 16 and died of old age, but I have always believed she died of a broken heart.

Now Izzy was alone. She had never been alone, and it changed her.

Libertybelle Joins Our Little Family

Izzy became more and more attached to me, but I could also tell she was lonely.

My daughter had a Shih Tzu. Her husband was not especially fond of little dogs, as he had two large German Shepherds. My daughter decided the best thing for everyone would be to bring her dog to me so she could be raised with Izzy. That is how Libertybelle joined us.

Izzy instantly loved her new friend, although she remained deeply attached to me. She followed me everywhere and slept with me at night. Libertybelle was used to sleeping in a dog bed beside the bed and continued doing just that.

Izzy was very smart. She learned commands quickly and was a joy in every way. She and Libertybelle never really knew strangers. Libertybelle was a sweet companion, but my deepest heart connection was always with Izzy. She was my baby girl.

A New Home and New Friends

In 2021, I sold my home and moved into a new 65+ community as the fourth resident in the building, which was not even fully completed yet.

I had the best yard on the property, near the pool area. Izzy missed her pool at the house, but over time, she adjusted. Dogs were not allowed in the pool area, so that was a big change for her.

As more people moved into the community, we learned the dogs’ names first and the residents’ names later. Many of the early residents had small dogs. We helped each other out, had doggie play days at the dog run, and sometimes gathered in someone’s yard. If you needed a dog sitter, someone would volunteer.

Izzy quickly became a favorite with many of the residents, and especially with the office staff, whom she greeted each morning.

I would take both dogs walking or to the park each day. Libertybelle was older than Izzy but still very active for her age. Still, we knew there would come a time when she would not be with us.

Saying Goodbye to Libertybelle

In our fourth year at the apartment, Libertybelle had a stroke.

I found her, brought her inside, and placed her in her little bed. It was too late to take her to the vet that night, and deep down I knew she would probably be gone by morning. This time, I did something differently. I let Izzy smell her, sniff her, and sleep near her all night. Izzy would not leave the room. She stayed on the couch, watching Libertybelle in her bed.

She knew. She was grieving, too. The next morning, I took Libertybelle to the vet. After Libertybelle passed, Izzy never slept with me in the bed again. She always slept on the couch. I kept a bed where Libertybelle’s bed had been with her favorite bear toy, and Izzy watched over it. Maybe she was waiting for Libertybelle to come home.

Remembering Izzy and A New Chapter With Family

Later, my daughter and son-in-law moved back from Colorado and bought a home with a wing of the house for me. They had a rescue bulldog, and Izzy and Shamrock became friends. They did not really play much together, so I found a nice doggie day camp where I could take Izzy a few times a week. She loved her camp days.

There were some major adjustments in the beginning. Once Izzy realized we were not leaving her, she settled down. But those little accidents in a new house on a new carpet caused some real tension at first. My son-in-law, who already did not care much for little dogs, and my decorator daughter were not happy with Izzy in those moments. But in time, we all adjusted. Izzy was part of the family.

Traveling and Remembering Izzy

I took Izzy with me on trips. She would sleep in the back seat for about three hours before we needed to stop. Our usual trip was about four hours from home, and she adjusted well to those visits and the houses where we stayed.

In one house, the bedrooms were upstairs; she had never had a house with stairs before. She had to learn to climb stairs. She figured that out quickly. What she never adjusted to was being locked in a crate.

At the apartment, I had trained Libertybelle and Izzy to stay in the shower if I had to be gone and no one was to watch them. At the new house, I had bought one of those crates that looked like a bedside table, thinking she would be safe there when I had things to do and could not take her with me. That did not work at all. She would shake it so hard you could hear her in every room of the house, and she would knock the lamp and other things off the top. The only time she wanted to go into that crate was to hide her treats. That was Izzy. We would find hidden treats everywhere.

The Beginning of Goodbye

I took Izzy to the vet for her yearly checkup and to have her teeth cleaned. The vet came out and said they could not clean her teeth because her blood pressure was too high. She had never had a blood pressure issue before and thought it strange. They sent us home with medication and told me to bring her back in a week.

Looking back, I still wonder if the medication contributed to her health decline. I will never know. But when we went back for the checkup, they told me her kidneys were failing and that she probably would not live another month. I was in shock. How could this happen?

Izzy had just been playing at camp. She had seemed fine. But in the next few days, she got worse and worse. The decision was made to take her in and have her put to sleep. I did not, could not watch her suffer.

It was the worst of days. My daughter drove me to the vet to be with me. I carried her in her blanket to a vet hospital near us that I had never used before. I chose it because it was close, and part of me hoped they might be able to save her, even though in my heart I knew that was not going to happen. They told us to stay with her as long as we needed.

I held her for a long time before they gave her the injection. The vet explained that they would use a quick injection and that she would simply go to sleep in my arms. I kissed her, talked to her, and said goodbye. And they gave her the injection. In what seemed seconds, she was gone.

I will say this. They were the most caring vets I have ever experienced. They placed us in a room where we could leave without having to walk back through the lobby. That mattered. They had compassion for us.

My daughter was with me, and we were both crying. We were brokenhearted, but we knew she went peacefully. She was not in pain anymore. The hospital would take care of her cremation and notify me to pick up the ashes.

Remembering Izzy…The Cloud in the Sky

It had been three months since Izzy passed.

Summer had come, and pool season brought back so many memories of her running and jumping into the water. Those memories were heavy on my heart.

One day, I was on a raft in the pool, looking up at the puffy white clouds. You know the old game where you look at clouds and imagine what shapes they make.

Then the strangest thing happened. I looked up and saw the perfect outline of a Yorkie’s face looking down at me.

I wish I had had my camera so I could have taken a picture. But maybe that moment was meant just for me. But maybe that moment was meant just for me. No one would believe me. But I believe it was Izzy looking down at me and her pool, wishing she were there with me. In a way, I felt like she was saying goodbye as the clouds slowly drifted apart.

That little girl was the love of my life. She was family. I miss her every day. The day camp still checks on me because they loved her so much.

Izzy will be my last puppy because of where I live now, but she will never be forgotten. I hope that when she crossed over the Rainbow Bridge, she was greeted by Briley, Libertybelle, Tessa, Tibby, and all the other friends she had known who had gone before her.

She has only been gone a few short months, but to me, it feels like forever. I will miss her every day for the rest of my life.

For Anyone Grieving a Beloved Pet

If you have ever loved and lost a pet, you know this kind of grief is real. They are not “just pets.” They are our companions, our routines, our comfort, our quiet little shadows, and sometimes the ones who know our hearts better than people do.

Grieving them takes time. Some days are easier than others. Some memories make us smile, and some still bring tears. But love like that does not disappear. It changes shape. It becomes stories, memories, pictures, little signs, and quiet moments when we feel them close again. Izzy left paw prints all over my heart, and I am grateful for every single one.

If you are grieving the loss of a beloved pet, please know that your sadness is real. The American Veterinary Medical Association has helpful information on coping with pet loss and understanding the grief that comes with saying goodbye to an animal companion. Cornell says euthanasia can be the kindest choice when a pet is suffering or unlikely to recover, which gently supports the hardest part of Izzy’s story.

From the Front Porch,

“Some loves may leave our arms, but they never really leave our hearts.”