"Our little terrier mix left us last Saturday night. She was the light of our lives with her happy little smile for more than 12 years. We will miss her sorely but we are happy she is resting in peace."

-Grandpa (Ernest)

...

"Jadyn passed away in the early morning hours of Sunday, September 6th, 2026, in her home in New Carlisle, Ohio. She was found by "grandpa," my father. She was between 12 and 13 years of age. Her illness showed suddenly and quickly grew, taking her from our lives too soon.

Jadyn came into our lives as a blessing, a little whining doggy who ran down our street into the yard of my childhood home on West Light St, in Urbana, Ohio, away from whatever life she had before. I remember the day, our mother took us to run an errand relating to my brother's education, as we were about to get in our car and leave, Jadyn suddenly appeared and ran up to our legs, crying and sniffing us, very excited and upset. "A doggy!" I exclaimed. My mother decided we would leave, and if she was still there when we came back, we would keep her while we looked for lost dog postings for anyone who was missing her.

As fate would have it, she was still there, she had found a comfy spot in the back of my kid nephew's little electric car, she jumped from the boot of it and ran up to us again, tail wagging, a full chorus of little whines. She had chosen her family, and we were the ones lucky and so very blessed to be the ones she chose. We brought her in, and I named her for the color of her eyes which reminded me of the stone. Nobody posted looking for her, so she was ours ever since then. She was maybe close to 1, I was 14 years old. She was and forever will be my special soul doggy. She spent the first week with us constantly whining, telling us all about what she had been through. She was such an emotional soul, from day one.

She grew up surrounded by love from our family, she loved attention and affection, was the cuddliest type, she slept with me cuddled in the crook of my arm or legs for many nights. She loved playing with our late kitty Tyger, who was missing one eye. She loved to howl and sing when you made a hand trumpet and played her signature fanfare: "Doot-doo dee DOOOO!"

She spent her life so, so loved. Jadyn, I love you, sweet girl, I'm going to miss you so very much."

-Carissa

...

"In Loving Memory of Jadyn

It is with broken hearts that we say goodbye to Jadyn, a beloved dog, devoted companion, professional food beggar, enthusiastic walker, and world-class squeaky-toy howler.

Jadyn had a personality that could never be mistaken for anyone else's.

She had opinions, and she was never particularly shy about expressing them. Give her a squeaky toy and she didn't simply play with it—she would unleash a full-blown howl as if that little toy had personally offended her. The house could be perfectly quiet one moment, and the next it would be filled with Jadyn's unmistakable voice announcing to the entire world that she had found something worth howling about.

Then there was food.

Jadyn believed that whenever a human was eating, she was also eating. It didn't matter whether she had already been fed. It didn't matter whether she had just finished a meal. If food appeared, Jadyn immediately reported for duty. She could give you that look—the look that somehow suggested she had been tragically and unjustly excluded from dinner—and patiently wait for someone to surrender. She was a professional beggar, and she took her profession very seriously.

And if the opportunity for a walk presented itself? Forget everything else.

Jadyn loved her walks. The moment it was time to go, the world suddenly became a much more interesting place. Every smell demanded investigation. Every sound deserved attention. Every trip outside was an adventure. To Jadyn, a walk wasn't just exercise; it was an important expedition that absolutely could not be rushed.

But as funny and memorable as those quirks were, what made Jadyn truly special was something much deeper.

She was there.

She was there through an enormous portion of our lives.

Jadyn was there during senior year of high school. She was there as graduation approached and childhood gave way to adulthood. She was there through the awkward, uncertain years of figuring out what life was going to look like. She was there through changes, new responsibilities, jobs, successes, frustrations, ordinary days, difficult days, and everything in between.

She watched a teenager grow into an adult.

She watched life change.

And through it all, Jadyn remained Jadyn.

She didn't care about career milestones or how complicated life became. She didn't care whether the day had gone perfectly or completely off the rails. She didn't care about the things that humans spend so much time worrying about.

If you were home, she was happy.

If there was food, she was interested.

If there was a squeaky toy, she was ready to howl.

And if someone said the magic word—walk—she was ready to go.

There is something incredibly special about having a dog who becomes woven into so many years of your life. Eventually, you don't remember certain periods of your life without remembering them with your dog. Jadyn wasn't simply present during those years. She became part of them.

When looking back at senior year of high school, she is there.

When remembering the years after graduation, she is there.

When thinking about the person I was then compared with the person I am now, Jadyn is there.

She became one of the constants in a life that otherwise kept changing.

And that is why saying goodbye hurts so much.

The house will feel different without her. There will be moments when we expect to hear her howl at a squeaky toy. Moments when we instinctively expect to see her waiting for food. Moments when it feels like it's time to grab the leash and go for a walk.

Those little moments may hurt for a while.

But eventually, we hope they will make us smile.

Because Jadyn gave us an enormous collection of memories—some heartfelt, some ridiculous, some ordinary, and some that probably would have made absolutely no sense to anyone who didn't know her.

And that's the beautiful thing about loving a dog.

They don't need to accomplish anything extraordinary to become unforgettable.

They just need to be themselves.

Jadyn was herself every single day.

She was loud when she wanted to be loud.

She was persistent when food was involved.

She was ready for an adventure when it was time for a walk.

She was wonderfully ridiculous with her squeaky toys.

And she was a loyal companion through some of the most formative years of our lives.

From senior year of high school to the middle of a career, Jadyn was there.

She got to see so much of life.

And we were lucky enough to have her with us for it.

Jadyn may no longer be here to howl at her toys, plead her case for another bite of food, or enthusiastically demand a walk, but the memories she left behind aren't going anywhere.

Her howl will live on in our memories.

Her begging face will live on in our memories.

Her walks will live on in our memories.

And most importantly, the years we shared with her will live on in our hearts.

Thank you, Jadyn, for being there through all of it.

Thank you for the laughs, the adventures, the noise, the begging, the walks, the ridiculous moments, and the quiet companionship.

You weren't just a dog.

You were part of the family.

You were part of home.

And you were part of our lives.

Rest peacefully, Jadyn.

Go chase every squirrel, investigate every interesting smell, find the biggest squeaky toy you can, and howl to your heart's content.

You will always be loved, and you will always be remembered. ❤"

-Nathan