Jazzy
2013 – 2024
Professional Stubbornist | Cheese Aficionado | Ice Cream Thief
Jazzy, my tiny tyrant of a mini schnauzer mix, passed away after 11 glorious, ridiculous, and unforgettable years. She was cranky. She was bossy. She ran the house with an iron paw and zero regard for human rules. And I loved her with all of my heart.
Jazzy had a sixth sense for snacks—especially cheese and ice cream—and would appear out of nowhere the moment a wrapper so much as crinkled. She had no time for nonsense unless it involved food, a warm lap, or barking at absolutely nothing. She greeted us at the door like a queen inspecting her court—begrudgingly, but always present, always aware.
She was infuriatingly stubborn, alarmingly clever, and somehow knew things she had no business knowing. Her side-eye could cut through steel, and yet, despite all the sass, she never left our side. Even at the end, she stayed true to her role: opinionated, loving, and absolutely herself.
I loved her more than I can put into words. I’d have given her anything—and frequently did, especially if it involved dairy. Jazzy wasn’t just a dog. She was family. She was home. She was a grumpy little genius who made everything better just by being exactly who she was.
Rest easy, my sweet, salty girl. You were the best dog, and I wouldn’t have changed a single thing.