After mourning her dear departed dog, Sarah-Kate Lynch makes a ruff decision
After Mourning Her Beloved Dog, Sarah-Kate Lynch Makes a Heartfelt Decision
There’s no replacing a beloved dog who has passed away, but Sarah-Kate is finally ready to welcome a new canine companion into her heart.
The Ginger’s Wisdom
The Ginger often teases me, saying that even if I were the last person on earth, I’d still find someone else to chat with. But those small connections you make with random people along the way can often brighten your day—and make lockdowns particularly challenging!
A Chance Encounter
One of my most random connections happened about 12 years ago when we were on the Gold Coast in Australia, where the Ginger was working on a film. I was taking our then-young dog Ted to the beach when we bumped into a man who looked a bit like Santa, and his dog who looked like a puppy but was actually 14 years old.
We got into a conversation about dogs, and since ours were at different stages of life, Santa shared that he’d loved his last dog so much that he waited a long time to get a replacement—but that had been a mistake.
“You should always replace your favorite thing straight away,” he told me. “Whether it’s a dog or a frying pan.” Then off he went, and I never saw him again.
Ted’s Passing
When Ted passed away at the end of 2018, I was too busy grieving to think about replacing him. I know that grief is the price you pay for love, but that doesn’t make it any easier. I thought my heart would break. I was sad and lonely, and worse, I felt silly for being sad and lonely because I’m a grown-up and he was a dog. I thought Santa was wrong. I couldn’t replace Ted at all, let alone right away.
A New Beginning
Then I babysat Woman editor Sido’s labradoodle puppy. Overnight, the melancholy I felt at having lost something so important was replaced by the joy of what a four-legged friend can add to a person’s life. It’s all about perspective.
I hadn’t realized how quiet everything had become in my day-to-day life since Ted departed—the tip-tap of keyboard keys being possibly the least interesting sound a person can hear for hours on end. But with Tui in the house, I had someone to talk to. It was as though an empty space to which I’d been deeply attached suddenly got filled up and changed shape, and the place came alive again.
Jimmy’s Arrival
Cut to a year or so later. Now, at my feet, lies Jimmy, an 11-week-old golden labradoodle who’s only been with me for three weeks, but I already can’t imagine life without him.
He’s already toilet trained (within reason), sleeps all night (now), rarely barks (a yip or two here and there, maybe), has yet to chew my favorite pair of shoes (but I know he will), and has altogether improved my life by 100%.
He’s a good listener, particularly when sleeping, doesn’t mind the vet or people coming to the door or thunder, and, apart from not really loving the car very much, is proving to be the perfect companion.
It’s hard not to sound like a convert to a strange canine cult—but then maybe strange canine cults aren’t so bad. Puppies are funny! They bump into things and fall over and waddle and flop, and if I am literally one minute late feeding him, Jimmy hurls himself at his giant bag of dog food in a tiny little rage. I mean, what’s not to love?
Should I have got him two and a half years ago? I don’t think so. The timing seems just right now. On the other hand, my favorite frying pan has just about had it, and I’ll be replacing that in the blink of an eye—so thanks for that, Santa.
For more information on dealing with pet loss, you can visit AVMA’s guide on grief and pet loss.
