Back Then, My Abby

It has been exactly four months since my beloved dog left me.

In these four months, my life has turned upside down. Years ago, I had already been preparing myself mentally for my dog’s passing—after all, he was very old. But when the day of our separation truly came, all that preparation collapsed.

When I stroked his head and watched him take a long breath, then slowly stop breathing, those images kept replaying in my mind. They made me cry, ache, and even tremble. I began to understand why some owners can’t bear to stay when their dogs are dying. I once swore I would be there with him until his last moment, but now I understand—it’s too cruel a process, one that leaves a long and painful trauma.

After my dog passed, during the first stage

I couldn’t eat or sleep. I couldn’t work, didn’t want to talk, and had no strength even to walk. I kept crying nonstop. I couldn’t find a reason not to want to follow him.

In the second stage, I started drinking heavily

 There was a time when I would start drinking right after waking up—drink until I passed out, wake up, and drink again. I didn’t want to face the world. I didn’t even want to open the curtains. Seeing the bustling streets and the spring blossoms outside only made me sadder. I kept thinking, why has the world stayed the same, while my child is gone?

In the third stage, I began to binge eat

It felt like there was a huge hole inside me that nothing could fill. I looked like I could function normally at work, but I often spaced out, stared blankly, and rarely smiled. I was constantly cold—even in warm weather, I would shiver. My weight increased rapidly, but I didn’t care. I was unkempt every day. The only thing that interested me was getting tattoos—the pain brought me brief moments of peace.

Now I’m in the fourth stage. I work normally, eat normally, talk normally, and still drink every day. I now equally dislike every human being.

The biggest impact of losing my dog is that I no longer believe in love. Because I have felt my dog’s love, I now know what love truly is. And the truth is—no human being will ever love me like that, and I will never be able to love a human the way I loved my dog. That realization feels hopeless.

Now, when I walk down the street and see others walking their dogs, I feel an overwhelming envy. I can’t help but stare at them, until they start to feel uncomfortable under my gaze. In my heart, I think—every owner who still has their dog doesn’t know how lucky they are in their ordinary days. But one day, they will part too. Happiness is as fleeting as fireworks. A dog’s life lasts only over a decade, a blink of an eye.

And at the time, it all just seemed so ordinary.