Julia B. Jones · Julie-ulia · J.U.L.I.A. arrived as a surprise — a tri-colored fur ball in the backseat, chosen by a seven-year-old girl with absolute certainty. From that moment, Julia made herself perfectly at home in every heart she touched.

Julia would always jump in the air to give Addy a lick on the face — her way of kissing her hello. Julia and Addison grew up together, and Julia always knew who her human was. The bond between them was unmistakable from the very beginning.

You would rarely find Julia without a ball in her mouth. She lived for the chase, and the moment she spotted the ChuckIt in your hand, she knew the game was on. She could wear you out before she ever tired — a feat she accomplished with boundless joy and zero apology.

Julia had a standing morning appointment with her best friend, neighbor Wayne Manual. Each day she would plant herself at the fence line and wait — patient and steadfast — for Wayne to emerge to feed his horses. She'd bark until he acknowledged her. "Good morning Julia. I see you, Julia." Those words were all she needed. Only then would she make her way back around the property to the porch, where she and her sister Elsa would spend the day holding court.

The UPS and USPS drivers knew Julia by name — and they were happy to prove it. They'd step out of their vehicles just to greet her, scratch her ears, and deliver a treat. She had a way of making everyone feel like they were visiting specifically for her, because in her mind, they were.

Julia didn't ask for much. A good butt scratch. A belly rub. These were her currencies of love — and she collected them freely. You were not permitted to pass through a room or leave the bathroom without paying the toll. She was firm on this.

She also lived for car rides: to Culver's for pup cups, to Aunt Brenda's for treats, to see the Christmas lights strung along country roads, or simply out into the open air on a slow evening drive. These were her versions of luxury, and she savored every one.

Julia had little enthusiasm for the grooming table, but she adored the hands doing the grooming. Her groomer, dog sitter, and all the little Shoup children held a very special place in her heart. Julia had a deeply motherly nature — gentle, watchful, and warm with every small person lucky enough to know her.

What brings peace in the midst of grief is knowing Julia is no longer waiting by the fence alone. She is reunited with Elsa. They were so close that perhaps it was only natural Julia would follow soon after. She hadn't quite been herself in the month since Elsa passed — and now, wherever they are, they are together again.

We are going to miss her more than words can say. Our home will feel her absence in every room, every morning, every quiet evening.

She was so deeply, completely loved.