Losing a Loving Pet: A Tribute to Orenji

Introduction

Losing a beloved pet is one of the hardest experiences for any dog owner. As a dog trainer, I've helped many clients through the trials of raising challenging puppies and the heartbreak of losing them. Today, I want to share my journey with Orenji, a dog who tested my skills and ultimately left a lasting impact on my life.

The Early Days with Orenji

Most of my acquaintances and clients were aware that Orenji was the daughter of another dog I had, Duke. I lost Duke when he had just had puppies, and Orenji was given to me. She looked exactly like him, and at the time, it was what I needed.

She was that puppy everyone calls me about—the one with toileting indoors, the destruction of furniture (she even ate our kitchen step), the puppy biting and mouthing, not listening. You name it, she ticked the box. In terms of my dog training skills, she took me to the trenches and made me doubt my abilities. My wife and I even discussed the possibility of rehoming her.

Building an Unbreakable Bond

But being Duke's daughter and looking so much like him, I couldn't give up on her. I spent hours training her, managing her to avoid situations that made me pull my hair out—and guess what? It brought us closer than ever and built an unbreakable bond.

When clients call me, stressed, crying, and wondering if they can do this, I know exactly what they are going through, and I know the future relationship they will have with that puppy.

Lessons Learned

Every dog has a lesson in them that we need to learn, and Orenji had about ten. However, looking back, I wouldn't have it any other way. She was the dog that sharpened my dog training skills and helped me understand what my clients are going through.

But as I tell my clients, dogs also do so many things right! We tend to get into a negative mindset and focus on their flaws instead of their attributes. Orenji was the first to greet me when I got home. She was fantastic with children, even those scared of dogs; she had a way of making them feel at ease, which is not an easy task for a large dog. She would sit at my feet in the garden or walk in the rain with me, and she would be the last dog curled up in the conservatory late at night while I was still working on the laptop. Even as I write this blog, it's late, the other dogs have taken themselves to bed, and it's strange not to feel her fur against my leg.

Moving Forward

What I am trying to convey is that, unfortunately, the inevitable end will come for all of us. The worst day in that relationship is always edging closer, but why let that one memory spoil a lifetime of great memories? Give yourself a day to grieve your loss, and then remember the happy moments. Remember the times they put a smile on your face, the lessons they taught you, and don't forget those lessons, as so many do. This is how they live on—in our lessons learned and in our happy memories.

Conclusion

I hope you have all enjoyed the post, and I thank you for the kind messages of support. Thank you—and thank you, Orenji, for all the memories and life lessons you have given to me.