Four Paws, Endless Love: The Dogs That Shaped My Life

 

       My Journey with Dogs: Love, Loss, and

                          Unbreakable Bonds

I’ve always wondered—how can anyone hate dogs? Just look at them! Their love is pure, their loyalty is unmatched, and I bet you won’t find a personality like theirs in any human. On that note, let me take you through my journey with dogs—a story of love, loss, and the irreplaceable bond we share with them.

Maggie & Sandy: My First Companions

My first dogs were Maggie and Sandy. Maggie was a fierce German Shepherd, while Sandy was a street dog we adopted. But Sandy looked so much like a Golden Retriever that my aunt was always proud of her “selection.” She appeared like a posh dog that had been pampered since birth. Maggie, on the other hand, was a true guard dog—no one dared to come near our gate because of her. Sandy, however, was just a bundle of joy.

But life wasn’t always kind. One day, someone poured hot water into Sandy’s eyes, and he lost one. To this day, I swear if I ever find the person who did that, I wouldn’t be able to stop myself from taking their eyes and using them as poker chips. Maggie was eventually sent away because our neighborhood couldn’t handle her aggression. No one asked me—I just came home one day, and she was gone. I cried so much. Sandy, my sweet boy, lived for 15 years, and I’m proud he got to live that long with us.

The Arrival of Simba: A Dream Come True

After that, I begged my dad for another dog, but he refused. Again. And again. And again. But in 2019, my brother and I finally convinced our parents, and we got a pet. I named him Simba—it was trendy at the time.

On November 13, 2019, two guys on a scooter brought him to us along with some puppy food. At first, I couldn’t see him clearly in the dim light, but when someone switched the lights on, I gasped—he was the king of my dreams. His huge, hazel-brown eyes were mesmerizing. I picked up that tiny bundle of fur, but the guys on the scooter told me I wasn’t holding him properly. That’s how I learned how to hold a puppy for the first time. As soon as I set him down inside the house, he sniffed around curiously, and I could tell he was happy to be part of our family.

But something felt off. Apart from his adorable face, he had a bloated stomach, yet his ribs were visible. We assumed he had just been overfed—after all, he was a Labrador. At that time, I was in 7th grade, and I had never been happier. That night, I couldn’t sleep; I just lay there, watching him.

Then came the nightmare. Simba started having diarrhea and barely ate. The doctors diagnosed him with parvovirus. We tried everything, but we couldn’t save my munchkin. He barked for the first time on November 16. He used to sleep on his bed while I dragged it all around the house—he loved it. And then, on November 26, 2019, he was gone. I was shattered. I cried endlessly. I couldn’t get over it.

Laddoo: The One Who Healed Me

But life moves on, and my brother and I longed for another dog. This time, my parents graciously agreed, and we got a female Labrador.(1-1-2020) My brother and dad picked her, and she was a chubby little thing—I could tell she loved to eat. But she was timid. When we brought her home, she went straight to a corner and dozed off. I remember thinking, Damn, this one is lazy. I don’t think I can play with her.

My mom named her Laddoo, but since that didn’t sound very official, we registered her name as Maggie. But no one calls her that—it’s always LADDOOOO.

The next day, she started playing. She swayed with the mop, chewed everything in sight, and filled our home with laughter. But I couldn’t get over Simba. At first, I even called her Simba by mistake. Even though my time with Simba was short, it was the best. He was a gem. But slowly, I started loving Laddoo.

She’s fearless—not scared of hospitals, crackers, or anything. She’s hyperactive, and we can never stop playing. The most beautiful part? The day Simba died was the day Laddoo was born. I’ve always felt that Simba sent her to me.

Laddoo is the love of my life. People call me crazy for calling her my sister, but I always tell them—just own a dog, give them all your love, and you’ll understand. Now, she’s a happy, healthy five-year-old Labrador who has made our lives so much brighter. She filled the void in me, and I couldn’t be more grateful for her.