Why Losing a Dog Can Be Harder Than Losing a Relative

I was 20 years old when I got my first dog. Of course, there were family dogs growing up, but this was my dog. I was living on my own for the first time, and he was mine to care for, love, and teach. It was like having a child. He relied on me for his basic life needs, like feeding, walking, and love. I relied on him for emotional support, entertainment, and love.

Though unlike a child who would grow up, move out, and start a life of his own, my dog was always going to be by my side, needing me as much as I needed him. We did everything together—we were inseparable. He meant more to me than most people in my life did, and we had a bond that no one could break. Our lives revolved around each other, in the most co-dependent kind of way. I had to plan my days around him, and he had to wait for me for anything he needed. And we gave each other our all.

To read more on this story, click here: Why Losing a Dog Can Be Harder Than Losing a Relative




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