If you read my latest book or have seen almost any post from the last four years, you know how much I loved Willa and how she changed my life for the better. I was reluctant to get a dog for many reasons, but when I met her I couldn't resist bringing her home.

I had worried, correctly, that she would take over my life, and that every day would be structured around her and her needs. I stopped traveling and wouldn't even get a haircut unless she could come with me.

We headed out every morning at 6:30 and spent most of the day outside. We both grew healthier and calmer. So much of life's hustle and bustle came to seem silly and unproductive. I drew while she napped, or with her laying beside me on location.

This summer she suddenly developed immune-moderated poly-arthritis and within days couldn't walk. She couldn't comfortably squat to poo and her eyes became cloudy from the pain.

The vet put her on steroids which left her panting, thirsty and unable to sleep. I carried her around for a couple of weeks, but then I felt selfish for prolonging her suffering.

Lap of Love suggested listing her top five favorite activities, and if she can't do some of them, it may be time.

Catching a frisbee mid-air.

Hopping into the car for an adventure. Sniffing out neighborhood rabbits. Wrestling with her best friend Daphne. Racing on the beach.

She couldn't do any of them.

Willa was a friendly and popular girl, and I've become the go-to dog-sitter for many of her friends. It's been an enormous help that I always have one or two (four sometimes!) of her buddies with me.

Still, if I let myself dwell on her absence I go to pieces.

I have all the drawings and notes for the sequel to Walks With Willa, but when I sit down to work on it, it's still too hard.

A new year's resolution is to finally finish the book. I aim to have it printed by Spring. In the meantime, I've put off adopting another dog for many reasons, but mostly because I can't imagine a more loving, smart, sensitive, smily, and charming dog than Willa. And I'm just afraid to go through this again.

I miss her terribly.

Steven