Oliver would not come licking our faces, he would rather lay down on the couch or the floor. Oliver would not jump up or down. Rather, he would look at you when you enter the down, and watch you walk in. Oliver did not like socializing with other dogs at all. If he could, and he did, he always kept to himself. But I never once was irritated with Oliver's nature. Rather, I saw all the ways he did love me--despite being so withdrawn. I could always count on him greeting me at the door, and happily watch me come home. I would always eat dinner with him, and wake up next to bed with him. I could always count on him staying up with me when I pulled all-nighters studying. Or I could count on him to sleep in allll day on a weekend.

Oliver deeply loved, despite what the world may say. And for that, I thank Oliver. I always thought that I needed to conform to how others expected me to express myself. That I need to betray my natural shy self, and to force myself to always be conversationalist and extroverted and bubbly. That, I needed to be of the most use to people possible both academically and socially to have real impact on the world and those around me. But with every tear I shed for Oliver, I found myself betraying my own standards. It's through Oliver I realized that it is possible to impact the world, and to deeply love despite not presenting as such. The most important thing I can do, is to be there for those around me. After all, that's what Oliver did.

So to my beloved friend and companion, may you rest in eternal peace. I hope to see you one day again. I will never get over this grief, but please know your legacy lives on through how I will treat myself from now on.

I love you so much. I hope you know are loved so much.