This past weekend, I had to put my 14+ year old dog, Virginia, to sleep. She had a pretty aggressive cancerous tumor in her mouth that was bleeding everywhere and getting too big to live with. It was time, but it wasn’t easy.

I should be clear this post won’t be about cars. I did manage to connect the loss of beloved dogs with cars a while ago, but I can’t bring myself to force any connection here, though I still want to share a bit of Virginia’s story, because I miss her and this somehow helps.

Last year I used a chunk of the money I set aside for my Beetle’s restoration for surgery to remove the tumor, and I’m happy I did so, as it bought her a good number of pain-free, happy-old-lady-dog months. But the tumor came back in December, and it was growing even faster.

Virginia has been sleeping by my feet in my little office for just about every day I’ve been writing here at Jalopnik. There’s a noticeably dirty corner in here still that I’m not ready to clean just yet. Every dog owner believes their dog is special, and they’re all correct. Virginia was profoundly sweet, smart, and loving, and for the last half of her life she was blind, too. To commemorate Virginia, I’d like to re-run this article I wrote for BoingBoing when she went blind. It’ll give you a good idea of who she was, and why I miss her so.

One of my dogs, Virginia, went blind late last year. I knew it was coming; she has glaucoma, and lost sight in one of her eyes a while before. We’d been keeping the other eye alive with lots and lots of medicine, but the vet told us it was just a matter of time. So, when the morning came and I found her running around crazily all over the house, nose to the ground, I shouldn’t have been surprised.