Nearly six months ago, I lost my beagle boy, Brisco, to cancer. Since then, I have been trying to learn how to live without him. At the same time, I had to learn how to navigate the relationship I had with my beagle girl, Delilah. Delilah had never been a single dog. Ever since we brought her home, she had big brothers watching out for her.
When we lost Brisco, she and I both had to cope. We had to learn to rely on each other even more. That journey of loss ultimately brought us even closer together.
But in truth, our journey together started nearly 11 years ago.
Becoming Delilah
After seeing her picture, Steve and I decided that she was the right one. We picked out her name, Delilah, before we even met her. It certainly fit the personality we would come to know.
We once again made the long 4-hour drive to Cincinnati, Ohio, to pick her up. She was just eight weeks old and one of the smallest puppies in her litter.
The meet and greet went smoothly. We brought Brisco along for the ride so we could meet his new little sister. We wrapped her up in a blue, plaid blanket, plopped her gently on my lap, and began the long drive home. She was calm and quiet the entire way, sleeping for most of it. It was, after all, hard work being a puppy, and she had to save up her energy. She had a new house to run.
A Year of Firsts
Delilah fit right in from day one; she knew she belonged. Her brothers, Rebel especially, were smitten with her. They were curious and cautious around her, and she was determined to keep up with them, no matter how tiny she was.
We found out pretty quickly that she loved tennis balls, even though they were as big as she was. She was interested in everything and was very much ruled by her nose.
It didn’t take her long to find her voice – and for us to wish she hadn’t. She knew exactly what noises to make and how loud she needed to be to annoy the entire house. She earned the nickname Banshee.
She had a busy first year, filled with plenty of adventure.
First Camping Trips
Her first camping trip introduced her to one of our favorite places, Pigeon River State Forest. She was about 7 months old and was about to embark on a new experience. A weekend in a tent and outside in the woods. We stayed at our usual dispersed camping site, where it was just us and nature. The weekend was all about relaxing. We went for walks along the road, explored the trails, and visited lakes made from sinkholes. Here she discovered the smell of elk and all the wonders of being in the woods. While her love for the outdoors started when she was born, I believe her love for the forest began here.
We camped throughout the year, visiting other favorite locations like Manistee National Forest where Delilah met Lake Michigan for the first time. But her biggest adventure of the year was her solo trip with Steve and me. We left her brothers with family, and took her on a fall color tour of the U.P. We went on long hikes up mountains, trudged through rivers to waterfalls (not her favorite), played fetch around camp, and snuggled together next to the campfire. She even got to see the property for the first time.
Home Life
While we kept her busy going on camping trips during her first year, she also had plenty of time at home to create her own adventures. She was getting stronger and faster by the day, soon able to keep up with her big brothers. From chasing tennis balls to climbing through snow tunnels, there was no place better to be.
It didn’t matter the season. She wanted to be outside.
When she would finally settle down and sleep, she preferred any spot where she could snuggle up to her brothers or sleep on Steve. But sleeping was not her priority. She was determined to live every day to the fullest.
Growing Up
After year one, it became apparent that while Delilah had a big heart, she was also very mischievous. Very. She was, after all, a beagle.
Delilah became an expert thief. Especially when it came to food. She would sneak into the kitchen and steal whatever she could get her paws on. She stole chicken from the refrigerator, taco shells from the lazy susan, lasagna noodles from the high pantry shelves, and bagels from the middle of the counter, to name a few. There was nothing that could stop her. She problem-solved her way to food. And she was fast to execute her plans and escape with her reward in her belly.
She challenged us to out-smart her. We put locks on everything, put food on higher shelves, never left her alone in a room with food, and finally put a baby gate up to keep her out of the kitchen entirely.
A beagle through and through.
Because of her antics, our relationship wasn’t smooth sailing. But through her, I learned patience, improved my own problem-solving skills, and most importantly, learned to let go of the little things. It may have taken us a bit longer to grow our relationship, but we got there.
Even though I’m fairly certain she would have traded me in for a box of Chicken in a Bisket.
Every day with her was an adventure. She was curious, fearless, and stubborn. She lived every day to the fullest. We took many camping trips, exploring new places and enjoying old favorites. We hiked to many waterfalls, up (Michigan) mountains, and hiked our favorite local trails. We played fetch for hours in the backyard and she played long games of chase with her big brothers.
She was a bright light in the world.
The Later Years
As Delilah grew up, she never slowed down. She remained curious with her nose being the one in control. She did, however, start to display symptoms of anxiety. Walking around a busy neighborhood became stressful. Trips to unfamiliar places (or vet visits) became the scariest thing in the entire world. Having her big brother, Brisco, around helped some, but the world felt unsafe to her.
Outside of her home, the forest was where she wanted to be. Rustic camping trips and hiking trails were her go-to favorites. She loved exploring the woods and discovering new scents along the way.
Despite having anxiety, she still managed to keep her sense of adventure (just a different kind of adventure), and her personality continued to grow in a big way. She was still mischievous but also super silly. She was an expert at giving you the “side eye” and would often look at you, pretending to listen, while her nose was pointed in a different direction.
She loved going to grandma’s house, where she got unlimited belly rubs and treats to match. And her love for chasing tennis balls never faded.
Delilah, Brisco, and I were three peas in a pod. We did everything together. And Delilah wouldn’t have had it any other way.
The Final Months
When Brisco passed in April, my world was shattered. Knowing it was coming, I made a plan to go up north and spend some time at the property. The day after I lost him, I packed up Delilah and we left. It was our first solo trip together, and it was one drenched in sadness.
But Delilah helped get me out of bed every day. She sat with me while I cried. She brought her elephant to me when she wanted to play. We went on hikes around the area, places we shared with Brisco. Together, we started the life of what it was going to be like without Brisco. Just the two of us. We were learning to live our lives without him, and it hurt more deeply than I could ever describe. But we were doing it together.
The next few months had a lot of rough patches, but also some good times too. Delilah and I grew closer together. We started new habits and new routines. She in particular enjoyed belly rubs every morning and extra blueberries for breakfast. We went on more trips, just the two of us.
Steve bought a camper, and I’m pretty sure Delilah thought he bought it for her. For a whole week after we brought it home, she would want to go outside and get in it. She would sit at the door, just looking out at the world. She thoroughly enjoyed the camping trips we took in it.
In September, Delilah began to get sick. She visited her regular vet four times in two weeks, trying to figure out what was going on. She stopped eating on a Sunday. I found a mass in her mouth. She had a dental appointment to remove the mass on Wednesday, which was sent out to a lab. She still wasn’t eating. After talking to her vet on the Sunday after the dental, we decided to take her to the emergency hospital to get her put on fluids and food overnight with further diagnostics the next day.
I remember sitting in the exam room, the emergency vet sitting across from me. She told me they found a mass in her abdomen, free fluid that contained blood, and that she had cancer. It had metastasized. It was happening again.
Except this time and with this cancer, by the time she was diagnosed, her body was already failing her. We were told we should take her home for one final night. We had less than 24 hours left with her. I was in shock. It was a nightmare that I couldn’t wake up from.
No surprise. She wanted to spend the time she had left outside. We sat under the stars until it was too cold for her, then slept until the sun came up in the camper. Once it warmed up, we were back outside. Steve and I sat with her while she slept, occasionally lifting her head to sniff the air or watch the squirrels until it was time to go.
Just 5 months after I lost Brisco, I lost Delilah.
There are few words to describe the heavy, relentless sadness of losing a member of your family. There are less to describe losing two members so close together. The emptiness is amplified. The silence is heavy. The silence is torture.
Delilah was so special. Her personality was as big as her heart. She loved big, was full of silliness, and enjoyed the simple things in life. She taught me so much and losing her…there’s really nothing I can say to express how deeply it hurts.
To My Baby Girl
We struggled a lot in those early years, but I grew to love you so much. You taught me patience and understanding. To let go of the little things and to go for what you want. I hope wherever you are now, that you are playing fetch for as long as your heart desires, chasing your brothers around a big yard, getting all the belly rubs, and exploring that never-ending forest filled with secrets around every corner.
I miss you more every second of every day. You got sick so fast and were gone so quickly. A house that was once full of your arroos is now silent in grief.
I will never stop missing you. I love you, my piglet.
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