Losing my dog was harder than losing a loved one
Losing my dog Rupert turned my world upside down, writes Lucy Leeson. Don’t believe anybody who tells you a dog is ‘just a pet’ – he was a member of the family
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Your support makes all the difference.I still remember the day now: 12 March, 2011. The day my life would change forever.
It was the day I collected my first (and only) dog, Rupert.
I had always wanted a little dog to keep me company. I imagined going for nice long country walks, teaching him new tricks, and making him a nice warm bed near the fire for him to snuggle up.
The first time we met, I will be honest, I thought he was cute, but it wasn’t love at first sight. In fact, the responsibility of what I had done soon hit me hard when I brought him home to my tiny house. I was used to going out when I wanted and only having to look after myself – I was a carefree 23-year-old after all.
One night, after I had to cancel a night out to look after a hyperactive pug puppy, who had chewed my stairs to pieces, I remember crying, thinking “What have I done, how am I supposed to look after him?”
Things soon changed.
A big turning point was when my relationship with an ex-partner ended. You know the one, where you can’t eat, sleep and you don’t even want to get out of bed. But I had to – and that was because of Rupert. He needed to be fed, walked and entertained.
We soon became inseparable. He had moved his bed by the fire into my bedroom and you didn’t get one of us without the other. It was always Lucy and Rupert.
In the years to follow, Rupert was there when I got my first job in journalism, when I moved house and when I met my now-husband.
I must have talked about Rupert a lot – so much so that on our third date he brought him some dog treats. Rupert soon became a big fan of his, and I knew he was a keeper (we won’t go into the time he met a former flame and decided to show his disapproval by taking a wee on my living room floor).
And then came the big one. When I found out I was pregnant with my first child. Nearing my due date, I remember a panicky phone call to my mother. My exact words: “What if I don’t love this baby as much as I love Rupert?” I was deadly serious, too. She obviously reassured me I would – and sure enough, she was right.
But if you look in any of my son’s baby photos, you will see Rupert in the background. I always included him, and my son grew up to love him too.
Unsurprisingly, Rupert had a starring role at my wedding and, when my second son arrived in March 2020, Rupert showed his approval by offering plenty of cuddles.
As the months passed and we both became slightly more grey and wrinkled, I noticed Rupert starting to struggle with his back legs.
A trip to the vet revealed a degenerative condition, with no cure.
To help, we took Rupert to hydrotherapy sessions, and we also got him some wheels, which gave him a new lease of life. We had been reassured by the vet that he was not in any pain.
And then came 26 October, last year. For some reason, I had an urge to get up extra early that morning, and that is when I found him in the living room. At first he looked like he was asleep. But as I went to say good morning, I noticed he was not breathing. Rupert had died peacefully in his sleep.
The pain was unbearable. I’ve lost loved ones in the past, but this was just as hard for me. That first night I didn’t go to sleep, because I knew that if I did the pain would hit me even harder the next day.
I had lost a huge part of myself.
Rupert knew everything about me. We spent most of our days together over the last 12 years. Some of my proudest moments had been with my dog – I spent many hours with him as my only company.
He never judged me. I was his forever person, and the love was mutual. I am not sure you can say that about another person, which is why his death is just so hard.
I always thought I would be the one to teach Rupert so many things, but it was the other way around. Rupert taught me the meaning of true, unconditional love and changed my life for the better.
Several weeks have now passed since we said goodbye, and there hasn’t been a day when I haven’t cried. But I can now smile when I think of all the special times we shared.
I will never again have the same relationship I did with Rupert, but I would take this pain any day for all the memories that I now hold so dear. I guess all that is left for me to say is this: thank you, Rups. I will love you forever.
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