The dogs we love

I met Oscar during my first weekend in New York. My partner said we would go for a ride, see some autumn foliage, and help her friends pick a dog from the shelter.

There were hundreds of dogs looking for homes. It was hard to get past the beautiful lab mixes and solid, healthy puppies. But skinny Oscar jumped into their arms and they knew he was the one. They took him home and that was the beginning of Oscar’s wonderful life.

I’ve always said that Oscar is as old as my New York self. We both left our hometowns to find love. I’ve had my share of blessings, but he was the luckier one in finding two moms who would give him everything his heart desired.

That was 13 years ago. Yesterday, Oscar passed away peacefully after his moms decided that it was his time. We had just spent a weekend of sun, water, and good food with him – his first time outside in a long time since he’s been ill. He was happy, but it was time to say goodbye.

‘It’s just a dog’

Those who have not loved a dog find it difficult to understand what it’s like to lose one. My wife and I lost our Greta last year and we still fall to tears when we remember her. After you’ve lost one, the words “It’s just a dog” or “Just get another one” can only come from someone who hasn’t been touched by a dog’s love.

Greta, Oscar, and another friend’s dog Hershey all died in the past few years. My wife and two other couples got them around the same time when we were in our twenties and thirties and in the beginning of our respective relationships. We are in our forties and fifties now. Four of us are married and Oscar’s moms have been together for 17 years. Our dogs’ passing marks a decade and a half of life and love. Hershey’s moms and my wife and I are on our second dogs. Oscar’s moms will probably go to the shelter for their next puppy soon.

Never completely alone

The busy way we live our adult lives leaves little room for more than a few intimate friendships. When we want company, we surround ourselves with friends, families, lovers, and children, thinking we aren’t alone. But the truth is that we will always find ourselves in our own company sometimes. Even when we are physically with others, we are often alone in our own thoughts and fears. If there’s anyone who is privy to all of our sadness and deepest secrets, it’s our loyal and ever-present dog. They know our every breath and sigh. They watch our faces carefully, feel our every emotion, and constantly offer their love as a solution. 

A dog’s love is cheap. A few good treats and rubs are enough to ensure a decade of loyalty and trust very few humans can expect or provide. How many times have I heard a dog owner say that even with spouses and kids, only their furry best pal greets them with joy? I’ve heard of a hundred kinds of heartbreak, of humans abandoning their pets (or even their children), but I’ve never heard of a dog deserting its owner.

Even if it’s often invalidated, the loss of a beloved dog causes a unique kind of grief for those who survive him. Sometimes it even feels like losing one’s own shadow, especially if you shared a close bond with your pet.  In fact, one year later I still fail in putting into words exactly how losing our Greta has broken my heart. 

Our dogs are with us even when we leave home. They stand by the door waiting for us when we depart and greet us upon our return with a wagging tail, no matter what kind of day we’ve had. They raise their heads to watch our every movement and expression. They greet the wind, grass, car rides, treats, and every single pleasure in life with a “More, more, more!”

In the end

Of course, lives so rich, beautiful, and full of adventure must also come to an end. In our best friends’ last moments, when there is no longer any comfort for their aches and pains, the spring in our puppy’s step and her endless sense of discovery become things of the past, they look to us to ensure their final rest. The decision is difficult and being put in that position is cruel, but giving our dogs a humane and dignified death is the least we can do for our best friends who have given us their entire lives. 

When we put our sweet dog Greta down last July, my wife and I held each other and sobbed for a good while, pawing at each other for comfort the way our dog would when she would ask for a treat. When the tears subsided, we pulled each other out of the house and took a walk to the park where Greta spent many mornings running like the gate was left open, rolling around the grass and wrestling with her canine pals. She really did have a blast when she was young, but her last years were tough. We sat on a bench with our swollen eyes and a twinge of guilt at our relief that her suffering was done. 

In our sadness and bitterness, we conceded that dog lives may be short but they are well-lived. We may not have them for a lifetime but that doesn’t mean we didn’t give them the best we had. They deserve all of it and more because in the end we learn that our dogs also give us everything they have – a love that never wanes or changes, a thirst for life and its pleasures, and the courage to let us know when they’ve had enough. 

Good boy, Osk! Greta’s the best girl. Hershey the beloved. Here’s to them and all the good dogs of our lives. May we be half the people they believe us to be, and may we be able to graciously receive and give back even half of the love they give us so freely.

Have you loved and lost a dog? Tell me about your best friend in the comments! – Rappler.com