I miss my Sydney Baby
I miss my old boy so much it hurts. His name was Sydney.
He was a Bichon Poodle mix, a rescue. I had him for 11 years. He was about 13 when he passed suddenly on August 29th, 2025.
Today is April 6th.
That’s 220 days without him.
I wasn’t there when he died.
I was able to say goodbye to him over the phone, and I know that was something… but it doesn’t feel like enough. It still burns. I think it always will.
Sydney loved hot dogs. I gave him one every single day. I don’t buy hot dogs anymore. I can’t.
He used to bury his head into the blanket and press himself against me like he was trying to get as close as possible. He slept like that, right next to me, every night. I don’t sleep the same anymore either.
He had this soft, curly coat. And when I gave him belly rubs, he made this high little whistle through his nose. I’ve never heard another dog make that sound. It was his. Only his.
And now it’s gone.
I don’t just miss him. I miss the way my life moved with him in it. The small, ordinary things that didn’t feel important at the time but were everything.
Now I notice all the space he used to fill.
I couldn’t be there at the end.
Even with the phone call, I’m still carrying that. I don’t know how to set it down.
It’s been seven months and I still cry every day when I think about him. Sometimes it comes out of nowhere. Sometimes it never really leaves. There hasn’t been a day where I haven’t felt it.
If anyone else has gone through losing them and not being there, I would really like to know how you live with that part. Because I’m still trying to figure it out.
I love you, my curly Q.
You were my boy.
You still are.