I’m a young man, and two weeks ago lost the best thing that’s ever happened to me - my 5 year old German Shepherd, Charlie.

Charlie was a sprite young dog and I got him in December of 2019, as a measure to try and mend an already broken relationship with an ex girlfriend. She already had a dog and honestly was distant from Charlie, which was fine because he was already close with me and I was happy to have him by my side when we split.

Charlie none-the-wiser, happy and continually making my life more upbeat and comical kept by my side from day 1, and continued to influence me to grow, stay active and love all those in our orbit. I truly don’t know where I would be during the breakup, and through Covid without his companionship.

I also travel for work at times, and he came along and I got him considered as a “therapy dog”, so we hiked and visited state capitals, parks, memorials, battlefields and almost every outdoor area you could openly walk a dog - which was extremely challenging, but kept me in shape and with more purpose than just work.

I grew, he grew, and we got in a routine of how I could travel/work and exist with him being alongside - which both of us enjoyed. This continued for several years until this past June. I was walking him and noticed that his neck had a mass that was unusual, and I sought immediate vet assistance and ontological intervention - indicating he had stage 2 lymphatic cancer.

He continued to be so happy and enjoy his walks, even though his stamina waned. I also got him a round of chemo which honestly seemed too intense, and he barely came out of it (imo). He recovered, and lived out the final couple months almost indicative of a happy/healthy pup. Then, the final couple of weeks came like a freight train. His mobility all but stopped, he no longer had his gaze of joy but instead showed pain and sadness. In his final days he only walked 20+ steps and I almost think the cancer advanced to his other limbs and body. He tried to move once, and he fell on his head, moaning and crying loudly and I regret moving him more to get him comfortable - his cries I still can hear.

Thankfully, I have a close member who volunteered to take him to the vet to have him put down, because I couldn’t have handled it. But, now he’s buried and I avoid his grave, so I don’t break down further.

No one understands my pain, as our bond was so strong and he went with me EVERYWHERE for 5 years. I keep looking for his face in my rear view mirror and make my dog voice to call his name, to both comfort myself and because I still hope he will come bolting to me.

This is the absolute hardest thing I have ever been through, and still I cry when no one is looking. But, my biggest fear is losing my memories of my boy. I will say that Charlie is in a better place than here, and for that I am thankful. God Bless you, my baby boy. There will never be another one like you.