You were a dog but not just any dog. It is
hard to explain but I will try all the same.
When we adopted you at 6 months old, you
were all legs with paws as big as fists.
A big brown wolf in the making. They’d
called you a silly name, one we were sworn
not to repeat. So, we named you Bruno after
your tan coat and clever amber eyes. You
were fiercely smart and observant of all
things your humans did. It soon became clear
you did not like doggie things. You did not
play. You were not a glutton for food or
keen on other canine companions. You enjoyed human things. You ate off a fork. You learnt how to speak. You would sit on a chair at the table and watch the world around you. You were obedient, solemn, and loyal. Everywhere we went you were like a shadow.
You’d sit at Dean’s side for hours like old friends, listening to him speak as he put his arm around your shoulders. You’d tell Mum you loved her in a very convincing howl. Come storm or wind, you would wait unwavering at the gate for us to return. You were a handsome giant: the best diver, the strongest swimmer, our most fearsome protector. You were the dog that was too human. And I could not help but think that the more time you spent with us, the more you understood every word.
Then came Misty, full of vitality and everything you were not. Playful, funny, disobedient – a rebel with speckled ears and a big smile. At first, you hated her. She stole your toys. Claimed your humans’ attention. Invaded your bed and coaxed you to play. Misty opened your heart and changed you forever. Your differences sparked an idea in me. In my first book, you became Prince and she became Bennie: the cunning pooch that fell in love with the joyful she-stray. When we lost Misty, you were never the same. Despite your broken heart, you were a good dad to Toby, the tiny pup that followed. You patiently put up with Toby’s endless energy, his tail-pulling antics, and even relinquished your favourite spot. Over time, you transformed into a wise and watchful guardian, while Toby reigned over the household. Now, after twelve years and ten months together, it’s time to say goodbye. I read somewhere that everyone thinks they have the best dog, and everyone is right. I think we can all agree: you were the best dog.
With love forever, our beautiful boy.
See you later, Brunobator.