I’m begging you, if someone loses a pet, do not ask: ‘Will you get another one?’

Our dog died recently. A tiny Bichon Frisé, Roxie was the picture of health for 10 years before suddenly having a seizure on a Sunday evening while sitting beside me at the kitchen table.

A few days, several seizures, and half a dozen veterinarians later, we took the difficult decision to end her life. The loss of a pet wasn’t a new experience for me. But it felt new.

Growing up on a dairy farm, we always had dogs – between one and five at any time. I’ve been lucky enough to have had some wonderful pets. And so I have experienced the grief of an animal’s death before.

But Roxie’s death felt entirely different. It was more.

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Perhaps the only victors of the Covid-19 pandemic have been dogs – it seems they are being walked more, and, if our house was anything to go by, rarely on their own any more

In truth, I’ve been feeling guilty about being so upset about her death. There are so many people currently experiencing the devastating loss of a (human) family member or friend, so many people with serious health issues, so many with whatever going on in their lives that has suddenly floored them.

And here I am, grieving over a dog.

Last year, Dogs Trust Ireland conducted research which had some revealing results. Half of dog owners said the grief they experienced after losing their pet was similar to the loss of a family member. Three quarters admitted having more photos of their dogs on their phone than their partner, family or friends – which, to be honest, sounds about right.

And, perhaps the stat I could most identify with, 38 per cent said they were surprised by how deeply they were affected by their dog’s death.

Perhaps the only victors of the Covid-19 pandemic have been dogs – it seems they are being walked more, and, if our house was anything to go by, rarely on their own any more.

Roxie sat by my feet most days, only leaving for the front door when she sensed another family member was approaching. In 10 years, no one ever walked through the front door without being greeted by a 12lb ball of white fluff. If the new arrival was a stranger, she moved quickly to approve or disapprove of their presence. No one ever failed the test.

There’s nothing quite like the feeling of coming home to a dog that can’t believe you’ve returned. The excitement. The pure love

She desperately wanted to be considered a full member of the family. And she succeeded. On her final night, despite a suggestion she’d be better off staying in the local vet’s clinic overnight, we brought her home. She sat on the couch and quietly took turns to snuggle into each family member. And then she slept between myself and my wife in the bed – the first time she was ever allowed in the bed.

And the following morning, she died.

I am not a crier.

The only male in a house of five that’s not an issue – there was enough crying over the past few weeks for all of us. I suspect I’m not the only man that’s adept at shoving emotions far enough down that they eventually dissolve, or disappear, or reappear at a sporting event, or whatever sounds like a perfectly healthy response to grief.

I would have cried had I known how. Instead, on the night Roxie died, I sat on the side of the bed in physical pain, unable to either lie down or stand up. Crying, I suspect, would have been better. And healthier.

[ More than just a dog – An Irishman’s Diary on missing a faithful friend ]

If you have recently lost a pet, a really useful guide to help cope with the loss and navigate issues such as explaining the death to children is on the Dogs Trust website.

I don’t have advice. Well, perhaps just one small piece.

A request really.

Please, I’m begging you, if someone loses a pet, do not immediately ask: “Will you get another one?”

How can someone possibly think that is an appropriate thing to say? As one of my children said when she was asked the question: “We didn’t lose a dog, we lost Roxie. There isn’t another Roxie.”

No one means any harm of course, but then neither did the person who said: “Well, at least you didn’t hit her with your car.”

The timing was just a little off.

There’s nothing quite like the feeling of coming home to a dog that can’t believe you’ve returned. The excitement. The pure love. And you were only gone for an hour. For the past few weeks, putting the key in the front door had a much emptier feel.

We are lucky to have dogs in our lives, but they have a serious design fault.

Their lives are far too short.

Roxie’s certainly was.