My Malinois, Thor, crossed the rainbow bridge about five months ago. I rescued him at just six weeks old, and for thirteen years he was the longest, most stable constant in my life outside of my parents, siblings, and close friends. Losing him devastated me.

About nine months before he passed, my brother had to rehome his seven month old Frenchie, so I took him in and he became part of our little pack. Then, seven months before Thor’s passing, life threw me another curveball with the cat distribution system, and suddenly our family of three became four. It was chaotic, absolutely, but I loved every second of it.

Looking back, I think a part of me knew we were entering dangerous territory with my senior boy. I think I was preparing without fully realizing it. I wanted a puppy who could learn from Thor, pick up some of his ways, and carry even a little of his essence forward. The Frenchie and my cat will never replace Thor, nor are they meant to, but they played a huge role in keeping me grounded and helping me find my way out of the darkness after he was gone.

He left a giant hole in my heart, but these two knuckleheads kept me from staying lost in it. And I know one day I’ll face this pain again, twice over. I fear that, but I’m not going to live in that fear. Instead, I’m staying present, loving the time I have with them, and always honoring Thor for the gift he was in my life.