09/05/2026
After 18 years together, Charcoal, my first son, peacefully went to doggie heaven in his sleep. Part of me feels relief knowing he’ll be reunited with Malti. (Malti was always my brother, and Charcoal always felt like my first son.) But another part of me feels overwhelming sadness and guilt.
It feels cruel that dogs don’t get to stay with us as long as we want them to. He’s been with me almost half of my life. Charcoal was incredibly loyal, endlessly funny, and completely food motivated. Food was pure joy to him. Eating made him so happy.
I also carry guilt that over the past year, with life busy raising two human babies and Charcoal no longer strong enough for walks, I didn’t show him as much attention as he deserved. But I’m grateful he stayed with us for so long. He caused trouble his entire life, and we always joked he was a dog who would never die. Somehow, despite eating basically everything a dog should never eat, he always made it through.
I love you, Charcoal. I’ll miss you deeply. It still feels surreal not having you here. I’m so grateful for the random day in SF when I decided to stop by the shelter just to look at dogs and found you instead. Thank you for choosing me.
I love you always.
