In the wake of Diane Keaton’s shocking passing at 79, fans are poring over what may be the last public glimpse of the Oscar-winning icon: a beaming Instagram photo shared six months ago, showing her kneeling on the floor of her sunlit Brentwood home, one hand gently on her beloved Golden Retriever Reggie, the other pointing playfully at a display of artisanal dog treats. The image, posted April 11 in honor of National Pet Day as part of a collaboration with lifestyle brand Hudson Grace, radiates the quirky, unfiltered warmth that defined Keaton’s off-screen persona. “Proof our pets have great taste too! Happy National Pet Day from HG & @diane_keaton 🖤🐾,” read the caption from the brand, which also featured Reggie “modeling” a plush dog bed from Keaton’s exclusive pet collection. In the shot, Keaton—clad in a casual white blouse and slacks, her signature wide-brim hat absent but her menswear-inspired style intact—looks utterly content, her face lit with a broad, genuine smile as Reggie gazes up adoringly. No signs of frailty; just a woman in her element, celebrating the simple joys of companionship amid her art-filled living room.

The post, which garnered over 150,000 likes and thousands of comments at the time, now feels hauntingly prescient. Keaton, who adopted Reggie in 2020 and often called her “half horse, half dog—maybe insane!” in a giddy Instagram video introduction, had long used her platform (1.2 million followers) as a scrapbook of eccentric delights: vintage architecture tours, hat collections, and candid family moments with adopted kids Dexter, 29, and Duke, 25. This final upload, however, stands out for its domestic bliss—no red carpets or retrospectives, just Keaton on her knees, eye-level with her furry sidekick, embodying the grounded authenticity that endeared her to generations. “She looks so alive, so happy—it’s breaking my heart all over again,” one fan commented on a resurfaced repost, echoing sentiments flooding X and Instagram since news of her death broke Saturday. Sources close to the family tell us the photo was snapped spontaneously during a product shoot at her home, with Keaton insisting on including Reggie: “No collab without my girl—she’s the real star.”

Keaton’s social media hiatus since April had raised quiet eyebrows among her inner circle, but insiders insist it stemmed from a deliberate retreat, not decline. “Diane was selective about her energy,” a longtime friend shared with People magazine. “She’d post when the mood struck—usually something quirky or heartfelt. The silence wasn’t ominous; it was her choosing peace.” Her last public outing, a low-key shopping trip in Los Angeles in late 2024, showed her bundled in a trench coat and scarf, chatting animatedly with a shop clerk about antique frames—vibrant, engaged, far from the “person down” emergency that unfolded at her home Saturday morning. That day, dispatch audio revealed a frantic call to the Los Angeles Fire Department around 8 a.m., with paramedics arriving to find Keaton unresponsive. She was rushed to Cedars-Sinai, where she was pronounced dead; preliminary reports point to natural causes, possibly cardiac, though an autopsy is pending.

Born Diana Hall on January 5, 1946, in Santa Ana, California, Keaton transformed from a shy drama student at Santa Ana College to Broadway breakout in Hair (1968), catching Woody Allen’s eye for Play It Again, Sam (1972). Her film career exploded with The Godfather that same year, where she held her own as Kay Adams opposite Al Pacino’s brooding Michael Corleone—a role she’d reprise in the 1974 sequel, earning her second Oscar nod. But Annie Hall (1977) was her crowning glory: As Allen’s neurotic, lobster-loving alter ego, Keaton won Best Actress at the Oscars, nabbing Golden Globes and BAFTAs too. “It was terrifying—I based Annie on my own anxieties,” she confessed in her 2011 memoir Then Again, a raw blend of her life and mother Dorothy’s diaries that hit bestseller lists.

The ’80s and ’90s solidified her as a versatile force: Nominated again for Reds (1981) as Louise Bryant, she charmed in Baby Boom (1987) as a high-powered exec turned single mom, and stole scenes in Father of the Bride (1991) with Steve Martin. Her 1996 The First Wives Club team-up with Goldie Hawn and Bette Midler grossed $181 million, spawning the iconic “You don’t own me” power ballad that became a feminist rallying cry. Keaton’s later turns—from the poignant Marvin’s Room (1996) with Meryl Streep and Leonardo DiCaprio, to voicing Jenny in Finding Dory (2016)—showcased her range, while behind-the-camera work like directing Unstrung Heroes (1995) earned critical acclaim.

Never one for conventional paths, Keaton dated Beatty, Allen, and Pacino but opted out of marriage, embracing single motherhood in her 50s. “I wanted kids more than a ring,” she wrote in 2014’s Let’s Just Say It Wasn’t Pretty, detailing her adoptions and battles with bulimia. Her Instagram, started in 2013, became a late-life canvas: 2024 saw posts from a holiday single recording session for “First Christmas,” her debut solo track, where she shared voiceover clips giggling through takes. Even in quieter months, she engaged fans with polls on hat styles and throwbacks to Godfather sets, amassing a feed that felt like flipping through a personal photo album.

The outpouring since her death has been swift and heartfelt. Al Pacino, 85, posted a black-and-white duo shot: “My Kay, my friend—your light never dims.” Woody Allen, via rep: “Diane made the impossible look effortless—irreplaceable.” Bette Midler shared a First Wives clip: “We were warriors together. Heaven’s feistier now.” Meryl Streep called her “the gold standard of quirky grace,” while Goldie Hawn reminisced: “Laughter was our language.” DiCaprio, who co-starred with her at 18, tweeted: “Diane’s kindness shaped me—truly kind till the end.” On X, #DianeKeaton trended with 1.5 million posts, fans splicing her final photo with Annie Hall lines: “A few words about you? Diane, you’re la-di-da.”

Keaton’s $100 million estate—bolstered by real estate flips, Hudson Grace collabs, and residuals—will go to Dexter and Duke, per sources, with portions earmarked for adoption nonprofits and wildlife rescues (Reggie-inspired, naturally). Her Brentwood pad, a mid-century haven she listed quietly in summer 2025 before pulling it, symbolized her reclusive turn: “I swore I’d never leave, but change is the only constant,” she told AARP in 2023. Friends noted her final days were intimate—family dinners, garden walks with Reggie, and script reads for upcoming projects like Artist in Residence with Josh Hutcherson and The Making Of with Blake Lively.

That April photo, now frozen in time, captures Keaton at her essence: joyful, present, unpretentious. As tributes roll in—from the Academy planning an Annie Hall screening to fans recreating her hat looks—it’s a reminder of her ethos: “Life’s too short for bad hats… or unloved dogs.” In her final frame, Diane Keaton wasn’t just happy and healthy—she was perfectly, profoundly herself. Hollywood’s lost a legend, but her smile endures.