You never really cared for going on walks or trips to the park or running around outside. You were such a homebody. We always talked about how we could leave the front and back doors wide open and you'd still just be lying down in the kitchen or somewhere. 

But car rides were an exception. They were one of your favorite things in the whole world. My car eventually became your car, and you knew whenever someone grabbed those keys, you were coming along.

You didn't care where you were going; you just loved having the windows rolled down so you could see and smell everything. It could be a short trip around the block and you'd be so happy. You became the reason your grandma started leaving the house more and going out to do errands. She did those things so she could drive you around. She loved it just as much as you did. 

I wish I knew that your last car ride would be your actual last. We really thought they were going to figure out what was wrong and that you would get better and come home. Your grandma was going to take the longest drive with you when you came home. 

But you knew, didn't you...

Your grandma said that you sat up the entire car ride to the vet's, with your nose smelling everything outside the rolled-down windows. You were so tired and weak, but you still pushed yourself to take it all in one last time. 

I wish I could have been there to see you. 

You were always a reminder to just enjoy the ride, regardless of the destination. You knew how to just enjoy the little things, the company of others, and new sights and smells. 

I wish we got to take that road trip. I wish so many things. But I know you enjoyed everything you did get to see and do. I know you were happy with the simple things. 

Still...I'd give anything to have you back for a day just so we could take one last drive–all of us, together. 

Car rides