My best friend of 35 years is gone, her life stolen by tiny little cells that grew out of control.

Laura was 49 years old and never stopped. She drove international long-haul transport. She rescued animals. She was a vegetarian that cooked the best burgers ever. She rode motorcycles. She drove a Shelby Mustang.

But her heart belonged to the dogs. She never stopped. If there was a dog in need, she was there – working, driving, begging, fund-raising, advocating – she did it all.

She had two daughters, whom she loved deeply, even though she pretty much considered tiny humans to be self-sufficient. Her view was that humans can always talk and everybody is there to help children, but “Who speaks for those with no voice and no rights?”

Not very religious, but she was deeply spiritual. She was always interested in hearing about other beliefs and she picked and chose the ones she liked and fit them into her Christian framework to create something truly meaningful to her, a custom fit, not just “one size for all”.

Later on, I’ll be able to present a more rounded picture because (believe me!) she wasn’t perfect. But right now, when the pain is so deep, she was flawless.