Fourteen years ago, Anne and I went to Pasadena Humane Society to see some of the construction our fundraising supported. While we were there, we chatted with Kevin, who was our adoption coordinator for our dog, Seamus.
Seamus had been part of our pack for about a year, and we were talking with Kevin about how much we loved him, what an incredible dog he was, and how happy and grateful we were to have met and adopted him.
I remember saying, “I don’t think I will ever have another dog who isn’t a pittie. He is so sweet, and affectionate, and so gentle, and …” I stopped because I saw a volunteer walking a puppy toward us. She was tiny and underweight, but she had the biggest smile. I knelt down to meet her, and she did a somersault into my lap, wagging her tail so fast I couldn’t see it.
“Well, they are just like this!” I concluded. Then I loved on that puppy until Anne gently told me it was time to let her walk into the shelter.
I was completely in love with her, that fast. She reached into my heart and never left. The next day, it was Anne’s birthday. We went down to the beach for a long walk, as is tradition. We were approaching the Manhattan Beach pier when I said, “I just need to confirm with you that we are not adding another dog to our pack, because I can’t stop thinking about that puppy.”
Anne told me that she didn’t pet her, because she knew that she’d fall in love, too, if she did. I don’t recall what we said to each other, but Anne called PHS and asked them to put us on a waiting list to adopt her.
A few days later, Marlowe came home with us, and she was my baby girl for over a decade. Even when she was an old lady, she was my little girl.
Just over a month ago, we found out Marlowe had lymphoma. It was so aggressive, it moved so quickly, we couldn’t stop it. We did everything we could for her, but we had to say goodbye to her last month.
I miss her so much, my heart hurts. It’s been a month, and I still look for her everywhere in the house. I’ll be okay, and then something will remind me of her and I am sobbing in a heap on the floor.
This is the first time in my life I have experienced this kind of grief, this kind of loss. When we lost Seamus, at least Marlowe was here for both of us while we grieved (and we were here for her, when she grieved). Now there’s just a big empty house and my broken heart.
I will miss her forever, my sweet little girl.
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Sorry for your loss. I knowhow it feels.
Rusty B
I’m so sorry for your family….
Hug each other and know you gave her the greatest life.
Take care
Kim S
Thank you for sharing.
So sorry dude. It’s amazing how those sweet animals leave such a hole in our hearts when they’re gone. 🙁
You’ve given so many fur babies the bestest lives Wil. It’s heartbreaking every time they take that rainbow bridge but rest assured, they had the best life with you. Every time I have a pet cross the rainbow bridge it hurts and it’s reassuring to remember they had the best life I could give them.
So sorry to hear of your loss. Always loved hearing you pass on tidbits about Seamus & Marlowe! We too adopt our dogs and have found them to be incredible members of our family. Our previous dog passed suddenly right in my arms. It was so hard to accept. Took us a year before considering adopting another one. While the one we last adopted was not the one we went to the shelter to meet, she caught our attention with a happy little yip and immediately fell in love. And I find scarily coincidental, while reading this post, one of my monitors cycled my saved image of portrait drawing of you & Anne with the dogs and cats!
Oh wil, I’m so sorry.
My heart is so sad for you. When I lost my Tip (my kitty, my first son, who I watched come into this world when I was 17) my whole world collapsed. After 16 years with him, I didn’t know how to exist in a world without him. He’s been through every single moment of my adult life at that point with me, and a lot of that was hard. He loved me consistently when people didn’t. He held my heart and soul in a way that no other human ever could. I’ve lost people, and whether it’s right or wrong, I’ve never felt the level of grief I did when I lost him. It almost ended me. He was so special. Our animal companions are so special. I wish you comfort and peace in this time. I know Marlowe was so loved. I know she knew it, too.
I think so very many of us have shared your pain, Wil. Our animal friends ask so little of us – to be loved and cared for. And they give us so very much in return.
“Noooooooooo!” <– This is what I said out loud when I saw the subject line of this post in my email. I quickly opened it and read on, and my heart sank. For you. For Anne. For Marlowe. And because, while I know you don’t know me or many of us here who read your blog in real life, we all feel like we know you.
I read your book (the updated version!) and, as a fellow childhood trauma survivor, I so GOT you. I’m the kind of person who feels things deeply and gets attached emotionally. My background is mental health/therapy. Childhood trauma is something VERY familiar to me – from my own childhood, and through the experiences of my clients. And I bet that Marlowe has been there for you as you’ve dug deep and done EMDR and processed and grieved and hurt and healed. And that is an incredible bond and a safe space – something we all need when we go through EMDR/trauma therapy – like no other. Because these pups are PURE LOVE. I know you love Marlowe and I could always tell she loved you, too.
She saw you through some tough stuff. And you gave her a life FILLED with love and emotional safety, the very things you’ve longed for yourself. WHAT. A. GIFT. Much love to you, Wil.
That’s lovely.
Oh, Wil. I remember when you got her. It seems like only yesterday, and yet so far away. I’m so sorry for your loss. My heart dog was Trinity. I understand. Sending love.
I’m so sorry for your loss. Sending love and light.💜🐶
They do leave big holes behind when they pass. So sorry for your loss and hurt
I am so sorry Wil, we all loved Marlowe with you. Sending you big hugs and love.
I’m so sorry to read this, Wil. I know you guys gave beautiful Marlowe the best life a pup could ever wish for, but it is so tough to say goodbye.
Sending love to you all.
I am so sorry for your loss. It will be a while before you stop looking for her, but hopefully your sweet memories of her will comfort you as you grieve her loss.
You have my deep, deep condolences. I am drowning in grief myself. In September I lost my best friend of 65 years. It comes in waves, as I’m sure you’ve heard, and it totally sucks. I’m glad you and Anne have each other.
I’m so sorry, Wil. I sobbed reading your post because the love of an animal child and grief is such a shared experience.
My heart goes out to you.
I follow a woman on Facebook who cared for a terminal dog and gave him a beautiful, peaceful place to pass. Watching that stayed with me—it reminded me how much love matters at the end.
Please love again when you’re ready. These beautiful souls really need us.
She was a beautiful gal, so sorry to hear of your loss. Condolences to you and your family.
So sorry for your loss Will. The pain is proportional to how much she was loved, so I know you are hurting. I am so glad she got to spend her life in your loving home.
My most sincere condolences Wil. I could hear the love in your voice every time you mentioned her.
Fuck, and I say this as a lymphoma survivor myself, cancer. Fuck cancer.
Thank you (and Anne) for doing a beautiful thing by adopting and loving Marlowe — up to and including the final loving thing we do for them, which is to let them go when it’s time. Even if that time always comes too soon.
I am so goddamned sorry about your family’s loss, Wil.
Sorry for your loss. I always looked forward to seeing Marlowe’s face online. I actually was wondering if she passed or you were just out of town. And was like should I say something or ask? Either way it sucks. She seems like she was a very good girl.losing a pet is as hard if not harder than losing a human depending on the human. Imo hugs
I’m sorry mate. It’s full-on how this grief is so huge.
So sorry for your loss. I’ve subscribed to your various blogs since the beginning. I remember seeing photos of Seamus and Marlowe soon after you got them. Thank you for sharing them with us. So very sorry.
I am so sorry for your loss. We had a dog named Zeke who died of lymphoma. All I can say is that you gave her the best life you could, and we all have to go sometime. You did good, Wil.
Animals that make their way into our soul like your Marlowe did are a so wonderful and forever more a part of you
I’m so sorry to hear about Marlowe. Your girl knew how much she was loved. Thank you for sharing her stories and her life with your readers. Hugs.
What a beautiful tribute. Marlowe knew immediately that she was going home with you. She was so lucky to have such a loving family. My heart breaks for you. gentle hugs
I’m so sorry you have lost your girl. The grief is so powerful it’s hard to breathe. I am thinking of you & Anne as you navigate the pain and deep loss
I feel for you. Every time I’ve had to say goodbye to a dog, it’s been the worst experience ever. It’s always taken weeks or months to recover. Marlowe was a great pal for you. Be well.
Seeing her on Anne’s Twitter so many years ago was the best part of that platform. I am so very sorry to hear of her illness and of your loss.
Losing a dog is a different kind of grief. But know she had the most wonderful life and was one of the lucky ones to have found where she belonged and her true family. Love to you and Anne during this time. We never stop missing them, but I still think it’s worth it.
Sending you love. There is nothing quite like the profound connection with a cherished pet and the loss of losing a companion truly deserves grieving. You were as important to Marlowe as she was to you, and hopefully, in time, the daily feelings of loss dissipates and you can look around your house and smile at all of the reminders of her and Seamus’ lives.
I’m so, so sorry for your loss. Thank you for sharing Marlowe with us, because we got to love her, too, in that weird parasocial way we do things now. I think I’ll miss Marlowe Mondays more than I realized I would. I lost my boy Max last June to lymphoma. It, too, moved too quickly to prevent fatal complications, and we had to say goodbye. He was rescued from a terrible situation, and I know he knew he was loved from then on. It still hurts, and it will continue to, but at least I’ve got my Luna. I’ll be a mess when she’s gone, but hopefully that’s a long way off. I hope the fact that Marlowe was loved by so many is of some solace to you and your family. Take care of yourselves.
It’s the most awful pain, the only comfort being that the love you gave her, and that she returned, will be with you forever.
Losing a pet is hard. Losing your heart dog is the worst. I am so incredibly sorry.
Clinton and I always made a point of showing each other your Marlowe Monday posts. Every picture showed how much she loved you. We are so sorry for your loss. </3
All my condolences to you and Anne. How has it been fourteen years? Marlowe was such a lovely dog and so loved.
They probably tried to give you a better child hood with Wesley ‘s snow ball fight, when that wasn’t helpful, they gave you your dog. Beth Frame
there’s nothing like the relationship between a pet and her human. So sorry to hear this.
Dear Wil, (I will use an online translator since I don’t know how to write in English)
I am very sorry about what happened to your little dog. Our pets are not just pets—they are members of the family, and their loss is terribly painful. In my life, I have lost many. I am now 43 years old, and each one of their departures was a dagger in my heart.
My dog Federica had cancer. We had to operate on her, and since we didn’t have enough money, we took out a loan to save her. Fortunately, she is still by my side, but when she is no longer here, I know I will be devastated. Her photo is on my Instagram, in case you want to see her. I found her on the street—I saw how, frightened, she ran from a car that almost ran her over and then ran onto the railway tracks. At that moment, the train passed. I thought she had died, but there she was, with some injuries but alive. She looked at me and wagged her little tail. I picked her up and ran to the veterinarian.
Fortunately, after a few days she recovered and is always by my side when I need comfort.
I know you are still very sad since you haven’t written since April 16, and I don’t think you want to reply to messages, but I want you to know that I am with you.
A loving hug from me.
Carina, from Buenos Aires, Argentina.
We lost our 7-yo doodle, Luna, over two months ago. She had a mass growing in her mesentery. It was already causing seizures & removing it would have killed her, so there really was no choice other than to put her down. It hurt … way more than I would have ever thought. Like you had Marlowe when Seamus passed, our other doodle, Sol, helped ease our grief, but it was obvious to us that he too was grieving. Then I had a dream about Luna. I was on the couch and she propped herself up. I put my hand on her head and told her that even though I knew this was just a dream, that we loved her and missed her badly. She gave me her trademark sideways look with tail wagging and licked my hand. Nobody can tell me a dog doesn’t have a soul, and I feel like maybe she was trying to tell us she’s good and to look to Sol’s depression. A couple weeks later, we saw a scruffy 10-yo terrier mutt named Angel on the ADL website and adopted her. Initially, Sol was leery of her but now they get along famously, and he’s got his old energy back. They’re family. We’re part of their pack. How can their passing not affect us deeply? My condolences on your loss and when your emotionally ready, there’ll be another pup that’ll take you into their pack. The best to both of you.
I am so sorry for your loss. From what you’ve written and shared about her, she was a great companion for you and Anne. hugs from across the internet
I understand your pain. I had three cats, Inu, George, and Buttercup. I was there the day they were born, took care of them and their mom while they were raised and weaned, and took the three of them home with me when they were old enough.
In December of 2023 Inu had some bladder trouble. I did home treatments but he kept getting worse. Finally I took him to the vet, and he had to be put to sleep. He wasn’t quite 13 years old.
The following April, Buttercup went outside one night and never came back.
In May, George did the same thing. I had been sitting with him for hours, grooming him, and he asked to go. I opened the door for him and he just never came back. He and Buttercup were 13. We had one cat left, Sugar, who had come later. We adopted another cat out of a bad family situation. I named her Kamé and she was pregnant.
Her first litter of 3 was born with my help. within a couple of weeks, Wolfie and Moonie both wasted away and died. I didn’t take it well at all. We had lost five cats in less than a year.
I’ll always remember all of them. I still tear up thinking about them.
Absolutely the hardest part about being a fur parent. But I wouldn’t give up being one for a second, all the love received and years of pure joy. I am so sorry to hear about Marlow (adore the name, adopted a dog name Milo, we both campaigned very hard for changing it to Marlow, but alas, we were out voted). 🥲
I am so sorry for the loss of that beautiful good girl! Marlowe pictures were part of what made me check out your posts daily on the FB in the past – her big smile always made my Mondays brighter. I’m so sorry that you have to live through the (completely understandable) loss of such a friend.
Someone once said to me “why must the measure of love be loss?” Good question. I wish it weren’t so, but it does seem that the more we love, the deeper the pain of parting. It sounds like Marlowe gave you the kind of always present, nonjudgemental love that we all yearn for but often struggle to find with others and even more so with ourselves. And you gave her the same. That’s a little bit of beautiful that you both put in the world, and that is no small thing.
I was looking through old emails and I just saw this! I lost my beloved cat Remington last summer, and it’s still hard, even though I still have his companion, Laura. My thoughts with you and Anne during this difficult time.
I am so sorry.
We had to put my Ziva (14 or so when she went too – she looked like Marlowe except she was all red-tan instead of having a white belly) down two years go this June and there’s still a hole in my heart. Every time I pet someone’s pibble, a small part of me heals. Every time someone loses one, I mourn like they’re Ziva, and I wish I could believe in a Heaven where all the doggos get to play with each other forever. If it exists, her and Marlowe are happily playing together with Ziva’s human dad (she died >6 months after my ex-husband did, and I knew she’d go after he did. Daddy’s girl).
You were lucky to have her in your life but the best thing about her, and dogs like her? They think they’re the lucky ones.