Teresa, I know how much it hurt to share the news that everyone had been dreading. We all grieve with you. We mourn the loss of beloved Miss Cow, even as we know that she lives on in her magnificent, insuppressible spirit, in your heart, of course, above all and always in your heart, but also in the hearts of everyone she touched. Through your posts, we shared and celebrated your remarkable journey together. There was so much celebration, so much joy, so much love. And of course, that makes this loss all the more difficult to bear. It hurts. It hurts just so terribly badly.  I'm thinking not just of your Tripawds family (and how we love you, sweet Teresa. You are so precious, so dear to this community), but of all the people Eurydice met, all those children, we saw how their faces lit up, to meet the glorious, magic Miss Cow, the policemen who could not bring themselves to give you a parking ticket, the waiters who brought burgers on the house, the band who played in your sweet girl's honour, too many people, far too many to mention, whose lives were touched by Eurydice, and by the beauty and exuberance of your relationship, and who will be changed by that meeting, changed forever in ways you cannot possibly know, who will remember her years from now, the child, now a woman, who will suddenly smile, was it a dream, did I really meet her, that glorious, crazy, goofy cow, who galloped, ears flapping along the beach? On three legs? No, really, I must have been dreaming. But she'll know in her heart that it must have been real, she'll know because Eurydice will be there.

You shared her with us, Teresa, and we share your grief now. Sending love, sweet friend. Please, lean on us. We are all of us here for you, now and always.

Clare 🌹

My dear Teresa, our sister and friend. Although we knew this day would come I know it was difficult and sad to let Eurydice go. Although I have a hard time expressing the kind and supportive words others are able to say so eloquently, please know my heart is with you.

After reading your loss yesterday, I took time to relive the past 8 months or so getting to know you and Eurydice through your posts, photos and videos. I have learned so much from you and Miss Cow:

• Do the can-can when you sing, even though nobody else is joining in
• Sing, sing, sing – our pets always love our voice
• Participate in our pet’s joyfulness and playfulness
• Make delicious and interesting meals for our celebrations
• Find a reason to celebrate another milestone, be it a birthday, an ampuversary, or even a good fart. Hmmmm, cats don’t fart.
• Learn only enough about the disease/diagnoses where we can do something about it. I admired how you withheld looking at her last lung xray. You wouldn’t have been able to do anything any differently than what you were doing. Sometimes not knowing is the best. Denial has a purpose.
• Share adventures and celebrations with others. You have shown many of us beautiful beaches, hills, forests, town squares, cafes, hotels, and even a medieval village where folks wear modern clothing.
• Learn more languages – French, Spanish, dog, cat, body language
• Dogs can fly, especially when they have floppy ears

Teresa, the great dane breed can have their goofy side but they are also thinkers. Eurydice read your thoughts and understood you. The love between you was obvious. She thanked you for bringing her Pitou by finding Pitou a forever home. You both attracted the most wonderful people and side-kicks.

I hope you find some comfort in Pedro and Woody, that the nightmares turn into beautiful dreams and memories of Eurydice and Kinky, that you continue to see Miss Cow in the sunrises, sunsets and shooting stars.

We’ll stay in touch. Love and hugs,

Auntie Kerren, Eli and Mona