Frankie Baldwin came into this family at two years old, a little soul who hadn't been with them long before she decided — firmly and without any doubt — that she was home. She didn't just join the family. She claimed them.
And they were so glad she did.
For over eleven years, Frankie filled the house on her own terms. She played in the yard and stretched out on the patio like she owned every square inch of it. She never once touched a shoe, a sock, or a single piece of furniture — because why would she, when there were toys to carry around and afternoon naps to take curled up beside daddy Bob?
She had her routines, and she kept them sacred.
Every evening when mommy Lisa came through the door, Frankie was ready. That welcome was her greatest joy — tail, heart, whole being lit up for the person she loved most. And Lisa loved her right back, baking her a birthday cake every single year, sharing slices with the boys next door like the little neighborhood queen Frankie truly was.
When her back legs grew weak, she didn't slow down — not really. She took to her doggy wheels like they'd always been hers, rolling through the neighborhood, greeted by name by the people who knew her. She never lost her spark.
Things Frankie truly loved:
- Her daily "greeny" treat from mommy Lisa — a ritual neither of them would skip
- Napping in bed with daddy Bob every single afternoon
- Birthday cakes baked just for her, shared generously with the boys next door
- A bath on the patio followed by an ice cream dessert — in that exact order
When Maw Maw Angie came to stay, Frankie was in good hands and she knew it. She rested easy. She always felt loved, no matter the day, no matter who was home.
Now she rests on the mantel in a wooden urn, beside her brother Brutus and her sister Bella — together again, the three of them, right where they belong.
*You were so good, sweet Frankie. So very, very good.*