My sweet dog, Skillet, passed away over the weekend. We adopted Skillet as a senior dog from the Iowa City Animal Care and Adoption Center right at the beginning of the pandemic in March 2020. She brought fresh joy and lots of snuggles to our lockdown period and quickly became a much-loved member of our family.

Skillet was a shepherd mix with a weird little stocky body and stand-up ears as big as I’ve ever seen. After seeing some photos of Swedish Vallhunds, we suspected she had some blood from that breed in her veins — but whatever her DNA, we knew Skillet as a cuddle bug who loved soft beds, fuzzy blankets and napping the day away. She loved french fries; if Seth and I were eating McDonalds, Skillet would literally hyperventilate while waiting for us to give her a fry, which she always got because she had expert puppy dog eyes. She loved to be blow-dried after her baths. She loved to chase our cat, Whiskey, around the living room at dinner time. When we came home, she would often grab the nearest toy and bring it to us as we came through the door. When we’d pet her belly, she’d bark at us if we stopped.

Because Skillet was a rescue, we weren’t sure how old she was when she joined our family, but the shelter guessed she was about eight years old then. We didn’t know how long we’d have with her, but every single day of the 21 months she lived with us were an absolute blessing. Skillet touched the lives of our friends and family with her big, gentle heart, soft fur and round loving eyes — everyone who knew her fell in love with her — and she loved everyone she met.

Losing a pet is extremely hard, as anyone who has ever said goodbye to a loved animal will know. Sometimes the pain of laying a dog to rest makes us think it’s not worth it — they get to be part of our lives for such a short time, and it never seems like long enough. But it is worth it. Always.

The first morning after we adopted Skillet, Seth and I went out to the living room to where she had slept on the couch. When she saw us, the biggest smile spread across her face and her long tail started thumping the couch cushions. It seemed like she was saying, “You’re still here? I’m still here? I am so happy.”

So now, when I remember Skillet, I try to think about that morning, how genuine and infectious her smile was, how much she welcomed our love. And remembering Skillet makes me want to be like Skillet — I want my smiles to be sincere and uplifting, my heart open and for everyone I meet to feel that I love them.

James Herriot said, “If having a soul means being able to feel love and loyalty and gratitude, then animals are better off than a lot of humans.” Our animals are special treasures. We can learn from our pets — not just how to best lounge on the couch and how to enjoy the simple pleasures of life, but how to be the best humans we can be.

Thanks, Skillet, for everything you were. Rest in peace, good girl.