My beloved dog died this week. After fourteen years and three months she passed away, quietly and at home, in the arms of me and two of my daughters.
The sadness comes in waves, dimming as the days go by, then resurfacing when I find something of hers: a stray ball of dog hair, a dog poo bag in a coat pocket, a forgotten dog biscuit under the sofa.
For the last third of my life, my dog has been my constant companion, my stalwart shadow. With the exception of a few overseas holidays, I walked her every day. She provided a form and rhythm to my days, forcing me up and out regardless of how little sleep I’d had or how hard the rain was falling.
This is just one of the splendid things a dog provides. We now know that keeping regular hours (getting up at the same time every day) helps us age well. Our telomeres (the caps that sit on the ends of our DNA preserving it from wear and tear) prefer it when we rise and go to bed at the same time, day in and day out. So, oddly, do our microbiota. Studies have shown that people who keep regular hours have more diverse microbiomes, longer telomeres and better sleep quality and quantity.
I’m grateful to my dog for encouraging me up and out on the days when I might have preferred a lie-in, or when it was dark, cold and wet. She created a habit in me which I suspect will endure for the rest of my life.
We know that exercise is king-pin when it comes to living a longer, disease-free life. Having a dog means exercise becomes non-negotiable. On my street lives a woman who is almost 100. Every morning and every afternoon I (with my dog) met her, with her dog. In the winter snow. In the summer heat. In the endless English drizzle. My dog was a Labrador who, in her youth, needed vast amounts of exercise. I bemoaned it then, but now – with exercise a daily habit – I’m grateful.
Dogs also provide companionship. Not merely by their presence, but by the reactions they inspire in others. On the day before she died, I took my dog to a café. Toddlers stroked her, babies smiled and pointed from their push chairs, people asked her age. This wasn’t unusual. When you have a dog, there are always people who want to talk to you – if only about your dog. In the UK we now have a minister for loneliness, and some researchers even believe loneliness to be as damaging to ageing well as poor diet or lack of exercise. But, for those who can look after them, a dog provides unconditional love and friendship as well as the chance to strike up conversations with perfect strangers, day after day.
According to the American Gut Project (who sequence microbiomes), researchers can tell when they receive samples from a dog-owner: Those of us with dogs have a greater variety of gut bacteria. I had my microbiome analysed recently, so can say with a certain confidence that I am the proud owner of a throbbing galaxy of bacteria, some of which came from my dog. It’s an oddly comforting thought – she lives on in my intestines!
It’s thought that this diversity also boosts our immunity and a Swedish study is getting underway in an attempt to explore the link between dog-ownership and an improved immune system. Watch this space.
The children of dog-owners often have fewer allergies too. When I was first pregnant, my paediatrician friend specialising in allergies, gave me two pieces of advice: get a pet, and don’t clean your house more than you need to. Sound advice.
Although my family and I feel bereft at the moment, our lives were made richer – in so many ways – by the presence of our dog. Research bears this out, again and again. Studies from across the world suggest that dog-owners have a lower risk of mortality from any cause, as well as lower blood pressure and less depression. In fact pet owners over the age of 65 make 30% fewer visits to their doctors.
Not all researchers agree, of course. Some say the sort of person who takes on a dog may be the sort of person to adopt a healthier lifestyle and that less healthy people simply aren’t able to care for a dog. The old chicken and egg.
But looking back on my fourteen years of dog-ownership (which came with the inevitable ups and downs), I feel deeply privileged to have shared the life of an animal. She made me a better, happier and healthier person.
Annabel
I am sorry to hear your lovely Lab has died. The two of you were such a team & I remember her well. I remember her as a puppy too.
We have now got a young Lab, she’s exuberant, bouncy & loving & interested in everything we do. I was just thinking the other night, we’re going to get old old together, her 12-14 years of life which we hope will be hers to enjoy, will take me to my mid 60s.
Whatever life holds for us as a family, she will be there to share it. The highs & the lows, just as you’ve written so eloquently. You must miss her so much, I’m so sorry. Sending you lots of love. Rosie x
Thanks, Rosie. Yes, missing her terribly. More than I ever imagined actually. I’d love to meet your new addition though – seen her pics on Insta I think (?) very beautiful! x
Your beautiful dog deserves to be named x
You’re right. Her name was Berry… because she was black like a blackberry and we got her in August when they were just coming into season!
Beautiful name for beautiful girl,
Thank you, Peggy. I still miss her!
Annabel, so sorry to hear about the loss of your friend. We have a labrador of a similar age now, the latest oldie in a succession, and understand how wonderful, and how devastating, having a dog can be.
Thanks so much. Labs are the best aren’t they? I hope yours keep going so that you can enjoy him/her for as long as possible.
Hi Annabelle. I am so sorry for your loss and know that the impact of losing a beloved pet cannot be underestimated. I too very recently lost my beautiful black cocker Molly who came into my life unexpextedly 12 years ago as a rescue dog and who changed it forever – for the better in so many ways. Your post says it all , I couldn’t have expressed the wonderful things my dog brought to me any better, or the small memories that daily trip me up like the poo bag in each coat pocket. I hope for you and for all of us who have lost a doggy friend that time will heal the loss and just the fun memories will remain. Hang in there and keep posting your wonderful & inspiring articles & recipes. Hugs to you.
Thanks so much, Hilary. I’m sorry for your loss too. Dogs are wonderful friends and give us so much joy – but so much sadness when they go. Am taking comfort from your words – and hanging in there! x
Hugs. What an awesome article. Yes, the health benefits research will always be a non-surprise to us dog owners. Thanks for sharing. We lost our 14 1/2 yr old dog a year ago. The ebb and flow if loss is on going.
Thanks so much, yes, they do so much for us. So sorry for your loss too. Yours was even older than ours – a good old age! x
So sorry to hear about your doggle, I lost my dear old retriever 5 weeks ago; it’s a sharp sadness – the loss of a faithful friend who has been with you through various stages and changes in your life. I’m not sure how I’d have coped with the empty nest stage without her. It certainly is a privilege to have the company and understanding of an animal in your life
Please keep up the interesting articles and recipes.
Best wishes Carrie
Thanks so much Carrie. So sorry to hear of your loss too. They are the best and most faithful of friends – and deserve to be remembered…x
Thinking of you all – I’ve been in that horrible place. When I worked freleance from home, before we had children, our Weimeraner Purdey was my constant companion I still miss her. Jenson is a completely different sort of personality heaven sent to grow with us alongside our girls and to provide me with loving company when the house was quiet, tbe girls at school and the husband at work. Beautifully written Annabel so very true both my dogs have got me up and at em in all weathers, kept me sane and through them I have met so many lovely local people some of whom have become friends for life.
Thanks for the lovely comment, Melinda. Yes, they are the best and most devoted of friends. And being at home with them all day makes home-working a joy and takes the edge off any isolation. Can hardly bear to be in my kitchen at the moment! x
So very sorry for your loss x
Thank you, Karen x
Beautiful article. So sorry for your loss. Elisa xx
Ah thanks so much, appreciated. Hope all ok down under? x
Hi, Annebel.
Sadness when a dog dies is a heartfelt experience and quite different (to me, at least) to when a human being dies. However, dogs tend to affect our lives in very different ways than human beings. We lost our terrier 3 years ago after 12 years and the last few months were excruciating (for us, if not him). However, I will always remember that he helped me learn empathy. Two years after we welcomed Basil (terrier) into our lives, my partner was diagnosed with MS. My suspicion is that without learning empathy from Basil, I would have struggled with Paula’s (my partner) diagnosis and immediate (thankfully, not long term) disability.
For you, read the following poem, by American eco-poet Robinson Jeffers, and always remember Berry fondly:
********************************************************************************************
The House Dog’s Grave
(Haig, an English bulldog)
By Robinson Jeffers
I’ve changed my ways a little: I cannot now
Run with you in the evenings along the shore,
Except in a kind of dream: and you, if you dream a moment,
You see me there.
So leave awhile the paw-marks on the front door
Where I used to scratch to go out or in,
And you’d soon open; leave on the kitchen floor
The marks of my drinking-pan.
I cannot lie by your fire as I used to do
On the warm stone,
Nor at the foot of your bed: no, all the nights through
I lie alone.
But your kind thought has laid me less than six feet
Outside your window where firelight so often plays,
And where you sit and read–and I fear often grieving for me–
Every night your lamplight lies on my place.
You, man and woman, live so long it is hard
To think of you ever dying.
A little dog would get tired living so long.
I hope that when you are lying
Under the ground like me your lives will appear
As good and joyful as mine.
No, dears, that’s too much hope: you are not so well cared for
As I have been,
And never have known the passionate undivided
Fidelities that I know.
Your minds are perhaps too active, too many-sided…
But to me you were true.
You were never masters, but friends. I was your friend.
I loved you well, and was loved. Deep love endures
To the end and far past the end. If this is my end,
I am not lonely. I am not afraid. I am still yours.
*****************************************************************************************
That’s a beautiful poem, Brian. Thank you for sharing. I think about Berry every single day (which I never imagined I would). Just as the poem describes so perfectly. Thank you! Annabel
My friend at the age of 95 said to me about his black lab: “I hope Herkie will die soon.” I said: “Why do you say that, Frank?” “Because then I can die too!” After I am living with my beloved Flossie, a beautiful and lovely tri-color border collie, I feel the same: I do not want to leave that Sweety alone in this world.
What a lovely comment! Our dogs are so important – in so many ways!