Is it worth having a dog, even knowing that we are going to lose it?

  Living with a dog means receiving a daily dose of love, companionship, and loyalty. Sure, there are downsides - we’ll get to those - but for me, few things are as comforting as watching my dog come over, sit beside me, and give me that look that says, “I’m here, no matter what.” Or when I come home and he greets me as if I’d been gone for months. It’s a kind of love that asks for no explanation, expects nothing in return, and doesn’t fade with time or hardship. It’s a love that simply… exists.
 Science backs up what dog owners have known all along: dogs reduce stress, ease symptoms of anxiety and depression, boost the release of oxytocin (the so-called love and bonding hormone), and can even help lower blood pressure. But no study, no matter how detailed, can truly capture what it’s like to live with an animal that loves you unconditionally.
 Of course, there are responsibilities. Having a dog isn’t all cuddles and playtime. It means waking up earlier to take them out. It means skipping spontaneous trips or dinners because they can’t come along. It means cleaning, grooming, buying food, paying for vet visits, and being there when they’re sick. Having a dog is a commitment. But, like almost everything in life, when love is present, the effort weighs less.
 In my case, I’ve had three very differ
ent experiences with dogs. The last one was with Bailey, a baby cocker spaniel who was with me for only a few hours. I was going to adopt him with my parents, but the decision was reversed that same day. Still, in those few hours, I felt something I’d never felt before — a protective, almost paternal kind of love, like I was caring for a newborn. He was just a bit bigger than my hands put together, and I remember him as one of the sweetest creatures I’ve ever seen.
 Before him, I spent a year with a female cocker spaniel that belonged to my great-uncle. When he passed away, everyone rushed to his house to collect belongings - except for her. No one cared about the animal he left behind. That’s when my parents decided to take her in. And even though she was only with us for a year, it was through her that I first felt the pain of losing a pet. She slept in my room, and in such a short time, carved out a massive space in my heart. Her death was also my first real experience with grief. A completely different kind of pain - and deeper than anything I had ever felt.
 And then, there’s my very first real pet, who’s been with me for fourteen years. I barely have any memories of life without him. And despite all the work - the walks, the routines, the limitations - there’s no denying it: he’s the best creature I know. The way he looks at me, the way he senses when I’m feeling low, the excitement he shows even when I’ve only been gone for five minutes… it’s all so genuine, so pure, and so rare. He taught me what unconditional love really is. And honestly, I don’t know how I’ll cope the day he’s no longer here.
 Having a pet means, deep down, accepting that you’re opening your heart to something you’ll inevitably lose one day. But it also means knowing that, for as long as they’re with us, they’ll make everything worth it.
 Because there’s nothing more special than being loved by someone who doesn’t speak your language - but understands you better than most people who do.
 And you… do you share this kind of love for a pet?