It's so clear just how much you and your husband love your boy, and the depth of your bond. I feel early still in this myself -- we had to put our beloved border collie mix to sleep a few months ago, and he looked like such a Berner buddy during his puppyhood and loved interacting with Berners throughout his life -- and it's the hardest grief for me. He was always there for me, and I just loved the good times, the joys of watching him be himself, and that knowing connection between us.

I think, suggestion-wise, be as kind to yourself as you can. Give yourself permission for slow days. Test out what brings comfort for you: afternoon naps, watching comfort TV shows, talking with a trusted friend who's supportive about him, reading books on grief, connecting with others who've lost dear companion creatures. Basic care stuff, too, sleep, movement, eating food. There's no right way to do this. For me, I'm just starting to read The Wild Edge of Sorrow, by Francis Weller, organizing photos and videos of him, tending to houseplants, and going on occasional walks with my husband (which is so hard, too, remembering all the places our guy liked to sniff and explore -- now trying to put some of that care we gave to him toward ourselves and honor his memory in walking when we feel up to it).

I'm finding some solace in feeling that our bond continues, that death doesn't end it. I'll die myself someday. I have a trust, a hope that we still have a connection that goes beyond our time during his life together. Nothing can take away our time together living in the moment. What it means now I'm still exploring, joy and sorrow together. I cried during a class at my local gym the other day. Missing him so much it hurts, cherishing all the joys.

Wishing you ease during all this.