Faith was, if there is such a thing, my soulmate. Her unconditional love and affection were like no other. 



When she first came into my life she was a skinny little shelter puppy with bladder problems. Because of her health problems I fostered her for 9 months before I adopted her. But from day one, she was mine. The health problems grew worse over time, but her spirit never wavered. Show Faith her frisbee or a stick and she quivered with excitement. Ask her to get her "buddy" (her doll) and she would search the house until she found it. Ask her to do her tricks and she would provide you with a repetoire that was hilarious and to her, full of excitement. 



Our early morning walks to Tim Horton's were always fun. She'd walk, frisbee hanging out of her mouth, hooked onto her two bottom canines, and not drop it until I tied her up to get coffee, and oh yes, her favourite, timbits. When I came back outside she would jump around as I untied her, and then would circle and bow and sit and shake her head, so excited about that moment when the timbits would be hers. She'd gobble them up, and then we'd start our walk home, her again with frisbee in tow.



Faith may not have liked many other dogs, but her love for people was unbelieveable. Faith's favourite place to sit was on my lap (or anyone else's lap if they would let her). Her favourite place to sleep - under the covers. She loved to be near me and people in general. She was a wonderful ambassador to the pitbull breed. And her smile - she really did smile. Her whole face would light up.



She had her goofy moments too - running around on the bed just as I was trying to get into it. I don't know how many sets of sheets she ripped doing that. Or if I made a funny noise she would get a look in her eye and off she would go, running, with her bum tucked under, knocking stuff over in her excitement. Even in the yard she would stare at you, urging you to play. She would play bow over and over until you finally made a move, and then she was off, running full tilt in cirles around the yard, and then coming back for more. 



That was Faith, and I loved her.



Faith, may you run and play in the fields now that you have crossed the Rainbow Bridge. Run free, with no pain; play with the dogs you were unable to in this life. And one day, when it is my time to pass, I know that you will be waiting there for me, with your frisbee in your mouth, and we will be together again.



Godspeed my little one.