Lisa Kissane

Dear Pan,

You'll never understand how much I love you.

You’ve never known it any other way, because you’ve been by my side since you were a tiny puppy, just 8 weeks old. You don't know it’s not like this for every dog (sorry, I mean wolf). You’re a special and precious boy, and my life is better with you in it.

I’d always been ambivalent about having pets. In fact, I actively rejected the idea for most of my adult life. When I found out I couldn’t have kids, and when things were really tough for my husband dealing with the drama of his ex wife and their kids, the last thing I wanted was to be responsible for another life. I had enough on my plate.

Then one weekend, on a rare and precious short break, me and Husband went to stay in a little nook we found on AirBnB. It was a portacabin in someone’s garden, surrounded by trees and flowers, and the owners had done a great job of making it feel private.

But, as is the way of animals, the owners’ little dog didn’t seem to understand the rules. It was a really hot day in July that year, and we were sitting in the lounge area watching the Euro’s final (on the extremely rare occasion we’d watch football, which is the only reason I remember what was on!) In plodded this little ball of grey fluff. He was a tiny thing, and seemed right at home, which, of course, he was.

I think my heart doubled in size in that moment, he was adorable! I checked his name tag - Lenny. He pottered around, having a good sniff of us. These intruders, such as we were. I didn’t want him to leave. We played with him briefly, but he wasn’t so young and soon got bored of the novelty of new humans and trotted away, probably for food and his own bed.

Over the course of that weekend, he popped in to see us a few more times, filling my heart with glee and a childlike wonder at how something could be so obnoxiously cute.

On arriving home, me and Husband started to have the conversation, on and off, about getting a dog. We’d have liked a rescue, but both had full time jobs and no experience, so thought it best we stick with a puppy we could train. Plus, we just couldn’t go through the heartache of applying for rescue dogs and being rejected. After so many years of fertility struggles, our hearts couldn’t take it.

We decided we’d get a puppy in about a year’s time, maybe the following summer. We were excited and apprehensive but I thought we’d tire of the idea eventually and this would become a whimsical memory we’d revisit sometimes.

But then, a month later, my dad died, completely out of the blue..

When I asked Husband a few weeks after the funeral if we could get a puppy sooner than we’d planned, he didn’t really have a choice. He wasn’t going to say no to the grieving daughter, now, was he?

And that’s how you came into our lives, Pan. You were born a week after Dad went. He would have loved you. But more than that, he would have loved how much I loved you.

It’s been 3 years and I can’t imagine a world without you in it. Every morning I wake up and there you are, occupying the space Husband leaves when he gets up for work. So content, without a care in the world.

Every night when we get into bed, you come up there with us while I read a book. When I fidget too much, you huff and puff and jump down into your cosy little bed. We go walking every day and I’m healthier than I’ve ever been, thanks to you. You watch me do yoga in the mornings, parking yourself underneath my arms and making it impossible to stay in position. Sometimes you playfight, and sometimes you cuddle. Mostly you just sleep. I could watch you sleep for hours, and sometimes I do.

Without saying a word, you helped me process the loss of my dear dad. I cried into your fur so much that first year, and you sat there, stoic, and let me. We spoiled you rotten (still do!) because we never got the baby we wanted so much. I got you the finest coats and the fanciest food, and you grew from my little prince into the king of this house.

You protect us from the terrible delivery drivers and abominable squirrels.You warn us when a dog (or horse) on TV looks like he might attack. You make us laugh when it’s the last thing we want to do, and you push your way in between us for a snuggle, but only ever on your terms.

And yes, when we're alone, I'm Mummy and Husband is Daddy. It's the only time we'll ever get to use those titles with each other.

You’ll never know how much I love you, Pan. Because you’ve never known anything else.

With all the love in the universe,

Your Mummy xxx