As a journalist, I have written many "last stories" about people. I recognize that these are some of the most important stories I've ever written. These are the ones that are clipped from the newspaper and saved in scrapbooks. I always try to be positive and sometimes add a little humor, depending on what is said about the deceased. Getting people talking usually reveals a story or a little quip about something said or done. I try to really capture the person's personality so whoever reads the final story can relate to what is said about the person they loved. Sometimes the final story contains information even people close to the person didn't know. I've never seen a time when folks weren't grateful that a final story was written about their loved one. Sometimes, the last thing said about a person is the first time their name ever appeared in a newspaper, during a whole lifetime. I only know it is a good story, worthy of being published, when it makes me cry.

While there isn't a big call for these kinds of stories, they do represent a small, but very important part of my freelance career. I was reminded of this aspect of my writing life this weekend with the loss of our dog Sam. He died Saturday, as a result of a tick-borne illness and complications from a heart condition.

Sam was a good dog. Gosh, he put up with our 6 cats. He was my husband's best friend.

When John and I went for a walk, just the mere mention of it made Sam's ears perk up. I swear he could smile. He always had a great disposition and was as eager to please us as he was to play with us. Even in his last days, he was a happy dog. We will miss him.