Sometimes You Just Need to Cry

02 Aug, 2026

It's been almost a year since my second doggo passed and just over 2 years since my first passed. I didn't expect that to be enough time to fully move on, but it is certainly not helped by the fact that my second dog, Zeke, fell down the stairs in the apartment that I still live in and that injury brought about the discovery of his cancer. He was put to sleep 72 hours later...

Some days are just harder...

I may have posted about this earlier, but I this is my blog so here we go again. I had both of my Dogs for 14 years each. Kira was adopted from a shelter and she may have been anywhere from 1.5 years old to 3 years old at the time. She spoiled the shit out of me. She was smart, confident, independent, and incredibly loyal and loving. For the first 6 months we barely spent more than an hour apart and when I finally needed to travel for a few days, she found some of my clothes and turned them into a dog bed. We both did a ton of training together and she was voice controlled and rarely acted out or got into anything. Jump forward another 6 months and I helped a friend rescue Zeke's mom. Zeke was born in early fall with 9 other pups. They were 5 sets of twins from two different dads. Only 9 of the litter survived, but we found homes for all of them including my best little bud, Zeke.

Zeke was much less confident than Kira and he leaned on her for most of their life together. I was dating someone at the time (who had also adopted one of Zeke's litter mates) and she took both of them to get neutered while I was away as soon as the vet would let them. I was not happy since the youngest a vet will allow this procedure is at 4 months of age and Zeke still had plenty of growing to do! Eventually I moved out and we broke up, but Kira and Zeke came with me to a new city. We still did everything together as a little pack and things were pretty great. We would roadtrip together (Zeke and Kira have visited 30 of the 48 contiguous US states). I even modified my car to turn the back bench into one big dog bed and installed an electric freezer to take their dog food with us.

After Kira passed from old age (she was slowing down and showing it for many months leading up to her death), Zeke was there for me and completely took over as the lead dog of the pack. He got more confident. He started showing more independence when we would go on hikes or to a brewery or coffee shop. My routine shifted to one with a solo dog. So when Zeke died, I was an absolute wreck. I was mourning both of my dogs and Zeke's death felt violent and far too sudden.

I write all this to give context about why some days are harder. Without warning I will find myself tearing up or needing to leave a situation because the pain is too much to bear in that moment. I am happy to have this outlet even if I have no intention to share it with anyone. I miss my dogs more than I can express in words, and truly believe what my doctor said when I brought up their loss. There are "soul dogs" in this life and Zeke and Kira were mine.

What non-dog people do not understand

I have many humans in my life that are a mix of dog people, dog tolerant people, and dog haters. The dog people (especially those that have lost their own dog) know that I am mourning and provide condolences and ask if I would like to share about them. Nothing pushy, no obnoxious platitudes, and most importantly no questions about when I will adopt another dog. Dog tolerant people ask about adopting another dog thinking the excitement or promise of another companion might help me deal with the loss I feel today. I can understand where they are coming from and I do not hold it against them for not understanding where I am today.

Dog haters? Fuck 'em! - Honestly, they tend to just say "sorry" and move on (which I am fine with), but the true haters need not be in my life at all. I had one person try to tell me that I should be happy that I have all this "free time" now... 🙄