Zoe

Zoe (aka Lionheart) passed into the realm of enticing aromas, prepared meats, long off-leash walks and an endless supply of slow, perhaps lame, squirrels this morning, quietly, at home, with her best friend Molly at her side. The demon cancer — aggressive and all-too-sudden — robbed her of cuddles and treats beyond her 14 years. A rescue from the barrio of L.A. where we believe her to have run with the Crips and Bloods in her first year, Zoe was rewarded with a life of soft beds, softer couches and laps, and fine dining when she emigrated north. Known for her sweaters, her fondness for licking and her ability to go from zero to 60 in a blink, Zoe leaves behind love, memories of her comings-of-age and games with Molly (the only dog she ever played with) and an assortment of trophy kills (including a Norwegian brown rat, two large snakes and maybe some mice, although those kills were unconfirmed). In her time, Zoe learned to enjoy camping, boating, paddle boarding, falling into lakes and not having to bark at other dogs. She was always the first to leave the room and put herself to bed. There she rests now in peace. She spent her last day surrounded by loved ones, walking on the countertops and sitting in forbidden chairs.