HAMMY

2013 - 2026

To most, you were a good boy. To a select few, you were a very good boy. To me, you were and always will be the greatest boy and the best dog imaginable.

In November 2013, I received a phone call from Pennsylvania letting me know that my puppy had been born. The breeder asked what I was going to name him, and in a moment of shock and processing the news, I blurted out “Hamilton” after seeing the Hamilton Fish playground on the Lower East Side that morning while taking a cab to work. The name stuck.

The two of us became a family on January 4, 2014, and from then on you were by my side through every single life change in adulthood. You rode shot gun when we moved from Brooklyn to Oklahoma City, and you were my constant companion as we navigated a new life in Middle America. You made sure to thoroughly vet the new guys when Joel and Joel David the Corgi joined the pack. You took on Jack as YOUR baby since the day he came home from the hospital. You were my carpool buddy for the move back to the East Coast, and you were there to inspect the first home we bought. You dutifully were there when we landed back in Oklahoma, where you continued to shine as a big brother with the arrival of Mabel.

You made every house a home for me. Perhaps most importantly, you taught me patience and unconditional love, and I truly believe you taught me how to be a mom long before Jack and Mabel arrived.
You were a constant in a decade plus of change. You were there for all the heartbreak, tears, and wondering if I was making the right decisions every day.

Although you never lost your puppy mannerisms, it was hard to ignore the white fur creeping across your face. Every spring began to usher in a health incident, but you bounced back every time for the last two and a half years.

Until this time.

I wasn’t sure if I would be able to understand if you were telling me it was time. It says a lot about how great a friend you were when I - the quintessential pessimist - easily found a sense of optimism to convince myself that you would be okay in the end. But I knew deep down you were telling me otherwise. You were telling me you were tired, hurting and just didn’t have it in you to get back up again, even though you never stopped trying to be by my side.

I hope you could feel me cuddling you until you closed your eyes for good. I hope you knew how much I loved you, and that you didn’t feel like I betrayed our family pact from Day 1 of “No Ham left behind.” I stayed until the end. Just you and me, just like that day back in January twelve years ago.

I know I’ll see you again someday - I have to believe that the first face I’ll see in that next plane of existence will be yours, tail wagging, ready to lead me foward by gently tugging on the cuff of my shirt as you liked to do. But until then, I will miss you. Ham, will I miss you.

You will always be my stinky puppy, Hambone.

Hamilton Tweedmouth Hufflepuff Porch-Caram. November 9, 2013 - February 6, 2026.