He said it’d only be two weeks—just a quick work trip to Berlin. “Feed him, walk him, scratch behind the ears if he’s dramatic,” my brother joked, dropping off Rocco, his soulful Doberman.
At first, Rocco settled in fine. But by day three, he stopped eating unless I hand-fed him and barely moved. I tried everything—his favorite music, familiar walks, even my brother’s hoodie. Nothing worked.
Worried, I took him to the vet, who explained Rocco wasn’t sick—he was grieving. Deeply bonded dogs can fall into a kind of depression when separated from their person.
Following the vet’s advice, I kept to a routine, gave him anxiety meds, and spent more time with him. Slowly, he improved. Then my brother finally called.
“I think he’s depressed,” I told him. “He misses you.”
“I knew this might happen,” he said with regret. “I’ve never been away this long.”
That’s when I realized—I wasn’t supposed to replace my brother, just help Rocco through the wait. My brother promised to come home early, and when Rocco heard his voice again, he lit up.
Some bonds can’t be substituted. And sometimes, all we can do is show up, hold space, and recognize that love looks different for everyone—including our pets.
