Losing my dog Stan is a wound too deep to ever heal – I’ll never get over his death
MY dog died. Three little words, and behind them – as you will know if you have ever loved and lost a beloved pet – there is a world of grief.
Yet there is so much to be grateful for.
Stan — our ruby-coloured Cavalier King Charles Spaniel — made me smile every day for the last twelve and a half years.
His fatal illness, when it came last weekend, was mercifully short.
I know Stan enjoyed his life, and I know that every member of my family feels blessed to have had him in our home.
Stan had a life full of fun and food and a death that was short and sweet — his last breath taken surrounded by those who loved him.
When the vet put him to sleep, we looked into his eyes and we held him and we told him that we loved him and we cried — oh, how we cried!
But there is so much to be thankful for.
In Stan’s life, and in his passing, and in those last unforgettable moments when we held him for the last time.
We were so lucky, and so blessed, and so privileged to have had this great little dog in our lives for so long.
So then why do I feel as if my heart has been ripped out and kicked down the street?
Because the passing of a dog is a death in the family.
It is a bereavement as profound as losing a parent. Truly, it hurts that much.
In the days since we lost our Stan, many people have confessed to me — somewhat shame-faced — that they cried more when their dog died than when they lost their mother or father.
I could not have loved my mum and dad more, but I know the feeling.
Because our relationship with our dogs is so intimate.
Stan changed my life for the better, and my life will be forever diminished without him.
I saw thousands of sunrises and sunsets only because he dragged me out of the house and into nature.
We walked in sunshine and snow and on fallen leaves that were exactly the deep rich red colour of his fabulous fur.
If not for Stan, I would have stayed in bed, I would have looked at screens.
But he forced me out into the mud, the rain and the dazzling sunshine of a summer’s day.
I put on his collar and lead, but he led me into life, nature and the world.
I had conversations with people who would have looked straight through me if we did not both have dogs.
Some of them became my friends.
Dogs do that, don’t they? They unlock our hearts. They have a genius for life.
They teach us that we should be glad to be alive.
And — the hardest lesson — they teach us that everything ends.
And saying goodbye to them is the toughest thing in the world.
I know that I will miss my dog for every day of my life.
Grief is the price we pay for love.
Stan was born on November 27, 2011, and died on May 11, 2024.
What a heartbreakingly brief life he had. Yet he crammed so much into those years.
Stan revelled in life — food, other dogs, sleeping, butterfly hunting.
I know he found real joy in whatever he was doing — and I know he taught me to love life too.
Losing him is a wound too deep to ever heal.
I don’t expect to get over it, no more than I will get over losing my mum.
And that is because Stan brought so much joy to our family.
He had a gift for making us happier.
When our then nine-year-old daughter started petitioning for a dog 13 years ago, I remember coldly calculating that she would probably be at university when this dog reached the end of his life.
And so it proved.
What I never guessed was that this dog would be Stan, and he would come to own my heart.
What I never anticipated was that he would make me smile literally every day.
What I never expected was that I would be totally heartbroken at his passing.
The people in our neighbourhood saw us every day.
“Where’s your dog?” they say to me now. “Where’s Stan?”
“He died,” I tell them. “Stan died.”
And people are very kind, for often they have experienced the same loss.
What happened was — Stan’s breathing packed up.
We went for his evening walk on Hampstead Heath on the first warm day of the year, and he was panting by the time we got home.
The panting did not stop.
At two o’clock in the morning we rushed him to an emergency vet.
And they did everything they could — they treated Stan with love, care and compassion, and I will be forever grateful for their efforts.
But by the end of the second day Stan was not recovering.
And it was time to say goodbye.
And I know with total certainty that he knew we were all there — my wife, my daughter and me.
Stan looked into my eyes and I looked into his eyes.
And I know he was aware that he was loved beyond measure.
And the strange thing about those last few moments — I don’t think I have ever seen him looking so beautiful.
He slipped away, his fur looking as glorious as it did on the day he was born, and he was beyond all pain and suffering forever.
Rest in peace, beautiful boy. Nothing loved is ever lost.
Dog owners like to talk about Rainbow Bridge — the place beyond this life where old dogs long gone are finally reunited with their humans when their own life is done.
Rainbow Bridge is essentially doggy heaven and it holds out the promise: We will meet again.
It is a consoling, reassuring thought and I try very hard to believe in it.
I do know that if there is anything at all on the other side of this life — I will see you there, Stan.
Then watch me run to you.
King’s rosy
THE fifty-shades-of-red portrait of King Charles III recalls that moment in the original Star Wars trilogy when Han Solo is frozen in carbonite.
I quite like it.
The loopy eco-activists are going to find it impossible to vandalise.
And the red mist is clearly meant to symbolise how Charles feels when he hears that Harry is writing another book.
PAT McFadden, Sir Keir Starmer’s election chief, claimed more than £40,000 on expenses for rent on a constituency home – despite owning the house next door.
Good for you, Pat!
There are now concerned murmurings about taxpayers subsidising the property portfolios of canny MPs.
But a tight-lipped Labour spokesman primly points out that money-mad McFadden “complied with Independent Parliamentary Standards Authority rules at all times.”
So that’s all right then.
It’s good to know that the magic money tree is safe with Labour.
He’s no Pozer
NOEL Gallagher was apologetic about not joining in the “Poznan” celebration with other Manchester City fans at Fulham’s Craven Cottage, citing a bad hangover as the reason he did not turn his back on the pitch and jump up and down with his arms around some nearby fat bloke.
But Noel looked like the only man with a brain in the away end.
The Poznan is the most stupid celebration in sporting history.
Man City’s glory days will pass – because glory days always do.
Life is too short, and glory too fleeting, for the spectacularly stupid Poznan.
Dazzling Anya has the grace of Kelly
THESE days we are used to reality stars/models/social media starlets taking so many of their clothes off that they make you feel like their gynaecologist.
In stunning contrast, Anya Taylor-Joy is always dazzling yet invariably fully dressed.
Anya is currently at the Cannes Film Festival.
And she is the classiest sight they have seen down there in the south of France since the young Grace Kelly.
Magic state of zen
WHEN it comes to tennis, I am like everyone else in this country.
I am obsessed with it for the two weeks of Wimbledon then promptly forget all about the sport for another year.
But Zendaya’s new film, Challengers, about a tennis coach and the two players who love her, might change our minds.
Although the movie is not so much about tennis as sex, love, jealousy, ambition and disappointment.
Zendaya is astonishing as a teenage tennis champion whose career is wrecked by injury.
Her performance suggests she will be the biggest star in Hollywood for the next ten years.
You don’t need to like tennis to love Challengers.
All you need to know is – love means nothing.
TAYLOR SWIFT’S 15 shows in the UK are expected to boost the economy by £1billion.
Prime Minister Rishi Sunak should make Taylor an honorary dame.
I am dead serious.
Knighthoods, damehoods and gongs of every description are dished out for a lot less of a contribution than the one that Taylor will make to the nation’s bank balance this summer.