I lost 3 dogs over a period of two years. Two lived to be 15 years old when I had to put them to sleep. I didn’t want their last moments on earth to be filled with stress and fear so the vet came to my house. They died at home in my arms and I buried them in my yard. A third dog was only 9 years old when she suddenly developed some autoimmune disease. One day she was fine. Two days later she had to be put to sleep at the emergency vet. Her death fell between the other two dogs. Each loss was devastating. Six years later, I still think about them pretty much every day. But dogs are like dessert for the heart: no matter how full you are, there’s always room for dessert. I now have two dogs — one who I adopted 9 months after my last dog died, the other about a year ago. The two of them together are often a royal pain in my ass, as small dogs often are — especially when they decide to tag team me. But they are sweet and funny and an endless font of joy. To me, a house without a dog isn’t a home.