To love an animal is to admit defeat and welcome heartbreak with open arms. That’s why I mourned your death the day I met you.

I was looking for a service dog and considering buying an already-trained golden retriever with a pedigree when a local rescue group got back to me. They wanted to let me know that, while they didn’t have the cute puppy I had enquired about, a female German shepherd named Barbie, they did have another dog available: a mutt who, as I had requested, was friendly with cats. That was you, Variety Magazine, and I felt that, for the name alone, you deserved a chance.

When we arrived at your foster home in Brooklyn, you received us alongside your foster brothers: a sultry orange cat and a timid black Labrador. We held you in our arms and knew you were the one. Baby Bubu, never die!

Barely three months old, and already we cried at your funeral. I knew that even as you grew into the large body your giant paws predicted, you would still be smaller than the unfathomable…