Before we adopted Murphy from the RSPCA in Patcham nearly fifteen years ago, I had little idea what complete love and joy a dog can bring to a family, less still the devastating grief that prevails when they have gone.
Warning, this column is about pet loss. It’s been incredibly tough to write and some might find it as hard to read so you might want to stop here.
There are terrible things going on in the world just now with families losing loved ones to war, terrorism, famine, natural disasters and other causes. I write this knowing that to lose a relative or friend is horrific. Not drawing comparisons between that and losing a long-term pet, I wanted to express how hard the death of an animal hits and how deeply that loss is felt. Others, including the Andrews family from Seaford who tragically lost a dog and three cats in a fire last Friday, are like us going through it right now.
Murphy was our world. As a four-month old vivacious puppy, we had to dog-proof our home like we did when our triplets started toddling. We changed our routines so we could give him the love and security so many dogs lack. We planned days out, even work commitments, so he was never left for more than four hours at a time. We spent out on puppy training (the less said about that the better) walked him daily (except in the rain; he hated that), fed him regularly and healthily. He was truly one of us. Murphy was never just with our family, he was a core part of it and our children grew up loving and being loved by him. He had his moments though and sometimes would rule the roost but never crossed boundaries and was kind and loving to us, other people and animals alike.
When we went on holiday, he’d stay at the RSPCA, dragging us across their car park when we arrived, so excited was he to get back to his roots. When they stopped boarding dogs, we decided he was too old to inflict different kennels on, so we shaped our holidays around our now adult children being able to look after him at home. My wife, Julie, even relinquished a trip to the Paris Olympics as we couldn’t get suitable dog care.
We knew eventually we would have to say goodbye to him but, given he was over a hundred in dog years, he’d been in the best of health. A touch of arthritis here, a long term cough there, but up until ten days ago he seemed like he’d live forever.
However, during the afternoon of Thursday the 11th, he suddenly became seriously ill. He’d been running round the fields that morning but after lunch he could hardly move. Within a few hours, and following a video call to a vet and then an emergency visit to our local practice, we learned the heartbreaking news that he was gravely ill, would not recover and were it not for the huge amount of pain relief he’d been given would be in unbearable agony. Hard as it was, there was only one decision we could make and so, supported by the amazing team at The Ark Vets in Burgess Hill, Murphy slept for the last time, nestled in Julie’s and my arms.
The pain my whole family have been feeling since has been excruciating and all-encompassing. It’s been genuine grief. Losing Murphy who was ever-present, unconditional in his love, quirky, funny and above all our little man has hit us terribly.
We keep thinking we hear his paws click-clacking along the hallway. We still expect dropped food in the kitchen to be gobbled up. It isn’t. We hate being able to leave gates open as there is no one there to escape. It hurts going out without having to think about his toilet or feeding needs. Even typing this, I half expect to hear his snore from under my desk, as that’s where he’d spend my working day.
Pet bereavement is real. It’s hard, harrowing but a testament to the deep love we feel for our departed family members. We don’t know when our waves of crushing pain will ease, but we do know that although Murphy has left this world, he will be in our hearts forever.
I am not sure me slavishly applying for delay repay will solve the rail reliability crisis for the nation, but I’ll keep trying.
I originally wrote this for my weekly column in The Argus, published on Monday, 22 December 2025.
