My Sweet Girl, Casey

When you sign up to become a fur-baby parent, you also—whether you realize it or not—sign up for the hardest part: the goodbye.

I had been a self-proclaimed cat lady since the age of 25 and was perfectly content with their oddly endearing ways. But when I bought my house four years ago, something shifted. A quiet knowing told me I was ready for a dog.

I had a very specific list. She had to have hair, not fur (so she could come to the salon). She had to be good with people (again—salon life). She had to be okay with cats. I didn’t want a puppy. And I wanted to rescue.

I never judge anyone who goes through a breeder. I’ve only ever adopted—that’s my journey—and as you’ll read, it came with many bumps (and not the kind on her body).

I searched daily, trusting that the right dog would appear when it was meant to be. And then, in March of 2022, I saw her. A picture that stopped me in my tracks. Her name was Casey—a southern belle from Georgia.I spoke with her foster mom and the rescue league, and before I knew it, Casey was on a van headed to Connecticut.

Casey's Pet Finder image...I died.

The minute I saw her, I teared up. I could feel her sweetness immediately. From that moment on, we were attached at the hip. My friend Jim even joked, “Meghan’s never going to date again after finding Casey,” and honestly… he wasn’t wrong. She filled a void in my life that I didn’t even know existed.

She was the gentlest, sweetest soul. We were all shocked when her DNA results came back: half Basset Hound, half Miniature Schnauzer. She was my little Bowser.

Casey came to me under the guise of being four years old—but she was likely closer to ten and very overweight. Her previous owners hadn’t taken great care of her, and she barely knew how to walk on a leash. But I didn’t give up. It didn’t happen overnight, but we got her down 25 pounds. And don’t let that fool you—this girl was done after a five-minute walk.

Casey with the salon's Tibetan bowl sound machine, lol.

Within our first six months together, Casey was diagnosed with kidney disease, likely due to her past care. We managed it with prescription food and medications. This year, we added Cushing’s disease to the list, and unfortunately, she didn’t tolerate the medication well.

That was the beginning of the decline.

Two weeks ago, I brought her to the emergency vet, where they found metastatic cancer around her lungs. Somehow, she bounced back—and we brought her home, knowing the end was near. Last week, we returned again, and she was treated for an upper respiratory infection. Once more, she rallied.

Until yesterday morning.

She wouldn’t even take her treats.

I looked at her and said, “Okay, baby. It’s time.”

This week durning Casey's steam bath treatments for her breathing. I did EVERTHING for this girl.

I have nothing but incredible things to say about Angel West. They became our second home throughout December and treated us with so much kindness and compassion. One of the nurses even came into our room just to hug Casey—that’s how special she was.

One of my favorite sayings in the animal world is, “Who saved who?” Because Casey changed my life. She kept me from making bad decisions. She softened my loneliness. And when I was diagnosed with achalasia this year, she never left my side.

I truly believe she held on until she knew I was going to be okay. I used to whisper to her when I was sick, Please don’t leave me yet. Even our repeated emergency vet visits felt like her way of preparing me.

She wasn’t just my dog—she was family to my sister, my friends, my clients, and my loved ones. She was the only animal invited to Thanksgiving. She was that good.

Now, as I sit by the fireplace next to a confused Milo, all I can say is that my heart feels shattered. This pain is indescribable, and I know it will take time to heal.

I miss the click-clack of her paws on the floor. I miss her snoring more than I can put into words.

She was, and will always be, my baby.

🤍