Fourteen and a half years ago, just days before my partner and I marked our first wedding anniversary, we thought the perfect gift would be… puppies. Not just one puppy, but two. After all, what symbolizes youthful love more than the belief that we could manage two dogs at once?
We were completely unprepared. Infatuated? Yes. In over our heads? Absolutely.
After a five-hour drive to welcome our new family members—our first “children,” Max and Bella (if you’re a fan of classic sitcoms, you’ll get the reference)—it took only about 12 hours to realize just how naive we really were. Two puppies? In a third-floor walk-up in the heart of the city? We weren’t just unprepared; we were out of our minds.
They made a mess of our apartment. They barked loudly and raced around at all hours. They even chewed on our furniture and walls.
But eventually, the chaos turned into delightful long walks, cozy couch cuddles, and endless games of fetch. Over the years, they became more than just Max and Bella; they were “the dogs.” A cherished pair and true family members.
The impact they had on our lives was profound, and it’s hard to explain. The stories we created together are our own—think of it as a personal version of Marley and Me. Anyone who has loved a dog will understand.
Last March, Max passed away. He had been unwell for some time, and while he had always been a bit demanding, his age brought new challenges. He required insulin twice a day, a special diet, and multiple medications. He had liver issues and hormonal imbalances, along with dementia that affected his vision and hearing. We even tried diapers for a while until we realized that washing them was more trouble than the messes. Though it was clear that it was his time to go, we all felt the weight of his absence. Remarkably, even in his death, they felt inseparable.
A few months later, Bella—the “miracle dog” who had bravely beaten cancer eight years prior—developed heart failure. She fought bravely for several months, but nearly half a year after Max’s passing, her heart gave out.
Some may disagree, but I truly believe she died of a broken heart.
Now, we find ourselves without dogs and with hearts heavy from grief. While I cherish the memories we created together, I’m largely just heartbroken. Devastatingly sad.
It shouldn’t come as a surprise; they lived long lives—14 years, in fact. Bella had heart issues, after all. Yet, some days it feels unreal that they are gone. I wonder when my mornings will no longer start with the thought of letting the dogs outside. I think about how I won’t come home and automatically wonder, “Where are the dogs?” or if one of them made a mess. Will I ever adjust to cleaning up food scraps from the floor instead of waiting for them to gobble it up?
There are moments when the intensity of this grief takes me by surprise—weeks later, I still feel the pain acutely. And while it seems a bit embarrassing to admit, given they were “just dogs,” there’s a quiet pride in my sorrow. It’s a testament to the profound love we share with our pets.
People often ask how my kids are coping with the loss, and like all of us, they’re navigating it in their unique ways. One of my children cried for hours after Max passed, holding him close until his final moments. He broke down again when Bella died. He mourned openly and completely.
My other child has let his grief unfold gradually, shedding a few tears in the immediate aftermath but then finding moments to cry on random evenings, missing them. He draws pictures of them as a way to process and understand what comes next.
Not a week goes by without him mentioning them. “I miss Max and Bella,” he’ll say out of nowhere.
“Me too, buddy. Me too,” I respond.
And I do. Every single day.
People often say dogs are better humans than we are, but honestly, they’re just better beings overall. They express their affection wholeheartedly. They hold no grudges, find joy in the simplest things—a long walk, a favorite toy, a nap beside us. Their capacity to forgive is endless, and their love is truly unconditional.
While there might be scientific explanations for their beloved traits, I prefer to believe that they’ve mastered what it means to live a fulfilling life, and in doing so, they guide us to live ours fully too.
For those interested in exploring more about the journey of parenting and family life, I encourage you to check out other insightful topics on home insemination, such as this resource on DNA testing. And for a deeper understanding of fertility, you can visit Hopkins Medicine’s IVF services.
To summarize, losing a pet is a profound experience that leaves a lasting impact on our hearts. The love we share with them is a testament to the joy they bring into our lives.