08/01/2026
💜🌈 Pumbaa. 🌈 💜
He walked into our home as if he’d always belonged here. There was never an awkward adjustment period or a question of where he fit. He simply… fit. On the couch, in the chairs, sprawled across the beanbag with his signature sploot, squishy cheeks waiting for kisses, and absolutely no understanding of what “personal space” was supposed to mean for a 60-pound dog.
Every day for Pumbaa was a celebration. Every meal deserved unmatched enthusiasm. Every spa day was an event. Every walk was an adventure. Every truck ride held the promise of somewhere wonderful. Every person and every dog he met was simply a friend he hadn’t introduced himself to yet.
He loved with reckless generosity.
He knew how to read a room better than most people. If someone needed comfort, he was there. If someone wanted to laugh, he’d find a way to make them smile. If there were kids to follow, dogs to cuddle, or a lap that looked even remotely available, Pumbaa had already decided that was exactly where he belonged. And somehow, we all agreed.
Every day was a little battle against gravity, but he never let it stop him from chasing the next cuddle, rolling over for another belly rub, or looking at us with those impossible puppy-dog eyes that could convince anyone to make room beside them.
He made love look easy.
The hardest part of losing him is that six months somehow feels impossibly short and impossibly forever at the same time.
How can someone be with you for only half a year and leave fingerprints on your heart that feel decades old? How can a house feel built around someone who wasn’t there before January?
The answer is Pumbaa.
He reminded us that family isn’t measured in years. It’s measured in moments. In quiet, early mornings on the deck. In muddy paws after adventures and tubby time. In Jeep rides. In getting snuggled in hoodies or tucked in. In ending the day exactly where he loved most—surrounded by the people who adored him.
The day before he left us, he had what can only be described as a perfect day. A walk. Breakfast outside. A truck ride. A waterfall hike. Ice cream. A boat ride. New sunglasses. An island adventure. And finally, a night wrapped in the love of his family.
If love could have written the ending to a life, I think it would have looked exactly like that.
Our hearts weren’t ready to say goodbye.
But what a gift it was that his final chapter wasn’t written in loneliness or uncertainty. It was written in belonging. In safety. In joy. In adventure. In full bellies, soft couches, happy siblings, laughing kids, and endless snuggles.
He knew he was loved.
And we know we were loved right back.
Pumbaa, thank you for choosing us as completely as we chose you. Thank you for reminding us that love doesn’t need years to become forever. Thank you for filling our home with laughter, warmth, and more affection than one dog should reasonably be capable of giving.
We thought we were giving an old shelter dog a home.
Instead, you gave us one of the greatest loves of our lives.
You will always have your place on our couch, in our hearts, and in every adventure that reminds us to greet the world with joy.
Six months. A lifetime of love. Run free, sweet boy. We’ll save you the best spot on the couch.
