L. Henry

Yesterday, we lost a cherished member of our family. We got Sunny at the start of our second term in the White House, and all of us – including our first dog, Bo – immediately fell in love. We also had trouble keeping up with her, for Sunny was a force of nature. Athletic and full of boundless energy, she leapt over the hedges on the South Lawn like they weren’t even there, chasing squirrels, birds and anything else that moved. And whereas the way to Bo’s heart usually involved a treat, Sunny was more interested in having us run around with her, roll on the floor with her, or have her belly rubbed for as long as we were willing. She loved the girls, even if they were pestering her when she was napping. She loved our team, and would often follow them around, helping them on the job. She was fiercely protective of Bo, who she rightly sensed wasn’t always as alert and attentive as she was. She had her eccentricities: other than Bo, she preferred people to dogs; she was a loud and sloppy drinker; and despite being a Portuguese Water Dog, she hated getting wet. But as far as our family was concerned, she was pretty much perfect, and for thirteen years, she would be by our side – always loyal, always sweet, always ready for adventure, still fiery and gorgeous till the very end of her days. We will miss her terribly, and imagine she’s with her big brother now, making sure he’s okay.