Of the many things I’ve strived to do as a parent, giving my children a bit more than I had in my childhood has definitely been one of them.

Not to be confused, I had a great childhood packed full of great experiences and lots of memories. I was actually raised with this mindset, often told that parents hope to build a better life for their children than they had.

Growing up in a city, then suburb, pets were restricted to fish and hamsters. Our lifestyle as well as living environment wasn’t conducive to much more than that and yes, I had both.

Not long after getting my own place my kids’ father and I adopted my first dog. About a year later we gained a second as I naturally felt the first dog was lonely and needed a friend. I’ve owned a dog (or two) ever since.

Somewhere along the line in our early twenties, we found ourselves in the company of someone who had been raised by a breeder. A longtime love for the four-legged companions, it was shared that her family always brought in a dog or pup when one was aging. This stemmed from two-part reasoning. One was that the youth helped prolong the life of the older dog and second, the dog left behind didn’t mourn the loss as badly.

This reasoning became the lifelong rationale of having a home with two dogs.

I laugh as I type that, recognizing how silly it might sound to some, yet to me it makes perfect sense. Our dogs are 100 percent a part of our pack (family) and just as I wanted my eldest to have a sibling, why wouldn’t I want the same for our dogs?

There’s something special about the love of a dog. The unconditional acceptance, the healing and joy they can bring to a family. In many ways, now 30-plus years later since my first rescue, I feel indebted to each of them for what they’ve brought to our lives.

The day after Christmas we sent another furry family member to join those before her at the Rainbow Bridge. My son’s sweet dog Abby was done living her best life and the bittersweet decision pet owners often face was finally at our feet.

Abby was a miracle dog we rescued eight years ago. She was a surprise Christmas gift for my son. Thirteen at the time and struggling with navigating teen life, there wasn’t anything he could think of that he wanted that Christmas.

When he was a toddler, we had a pug named Harold. My son had fond memories of Harold and would often share someday he’d like to have another.

Making a long story short, as a rescue family, looking for a breeder was not an option. Finding a pug at a rescue however, is not an easy task, especially then, given the time restraints. Turning to social media, I placed an all-points bulletin sharing the Christmas surprise I was in search of.

A friend had located Abby and one of her pups at a shelter in Manteca. The surprise was had and Christmas was made.

At the time of her adoption, the shelter was unsure of her age. They had found her and her pup roaming the streets of Lathrop. They believed she had been overbred and dumped. Her little body showed signs of multiple litters. Due to this fact, they believed her to be about four years of age.

My son and Abby bonded instantly.

Now 13, I shared with him this would be his dog, so he would be responsible for her. He would need to walk her, feed her and all the things. This way she would bond with him and not mom (as is often the case). Without hesitation he took it to heart and Abby quickly became my son’s shadow.

In the beginning, she would cry (howl) when I would return from taking him to school. Once he would return home, she would be close by as he did his homework. Basically, wherever my son was, Abby was.

In the years which followed, Abby would find herself amongst a pack of labradors, never once backing down or feeling inferior, she would run alongside them huffing and puffing as she went.

Like most pugs, she snored when she slept which made her easy to keep track of. She’d roll onto her backside and “raise the roof” with her front paws often, demonstrating happiness. She possessed Saint Bernard-sized personality in a 25-pound body.

In short, she was a true best friend, returning a smile to my son’s face at a time when it had started to fade.

In true Abby style, we began to notice her decline two years ago. Uncertain of her true age and aware that short snout dogs don’t live as long, we began looking for a companion for our lab who would mourn Abby as much as we would. Abby had been a mother to our lab since she was a pup, so this would not be easy.

In comes Lady Mae, a golden doodle we rescued from a friend who didn’t have time for the energy a doodle requires.

While Abby was not completely thrilled by this new bundle of energy we brought home, she was inspired. Suddenly and contrary to what I thought, we became a house with three dogs for the next two years.

Abby had the last laugh on mom’s theories, that is for sure.

A few years ago, I shared with my kids, how grateful I was that they were able to grow up knowing the love of a dog. They’ve never lived in a home without one. The lessons and love they have gained from these animals are truly priceless.

The heartbreak, of course hits hard, when that fateful day comes. Yet the memories, laughs and love we are left with is insurmountable.

Now, as we return to a home of two furry family members, we are learning to navigate with the void of “Abigail.” The smallest light, who gave us the most love and reminded us of the truth in miracles. Thank you, sweet girl.

Teresa Hammond is a staff reporter for The Oakdale Leader, The Riverbank News and The Escalon Times. She may be reached at thammond@oakdaleleader.com or by calling 209-847-3021.