06/07/2026
One of the saddest things I’ve ever had to write.
Last week, at just 7 years old, our Dylan crossed the rainbow bridge, and I had the absolute honour of being there with Bex as he peacefully slipped away.
I’ve walked Dylan since he came home as a young puppy. From the very beginning, he stole my heart—and everyone else’s too. He was famous around Cranbrook for his handsome face, massive fluffy paws and his cheeky personality. You couldn’t help but smile when you saw him.
We clicked straight away. I loved pairing him up with different dogs on walks, but his favourites were always the little ones—especially his best mate, Little Bear the Frenchie. Despite his size, he was the gentlest soul. If I ever needed a calm, trustworthy dog to help socialise a nervous puppy, Dylan was always my first choice. So many of the little dogs I walk today are confident around big dogs because they grew up walking alongside him.
When he was only a few months old, Dylan became desperately ill. We nearly lost him before anyone knew what was wrong. The vets were unsure, so in a bit of desperation I reached out to fellow dog walkers online. A lovely lady messaged almost immediately and suggested meningitis. It turned out she was right, and because of that, Dylan got the treatment he needed. It genuinely helped save his life.
From that point on, our bond became even stronger. He was my heart dog.
I don’t think I’ve gone more than a few days without seeing him over the last seven years. Whether it was our regular walks or pet sitting while Bex and Steve were away, some of my favourite moments were the quiet ones—him stretched across my legs on the sofa, or following me into the kitchen in the hope that cheese might magically appear.
Daisy has grown up with him too. She’d often come with me when I was looking after him, and they’d spend hours lying on the floor together, watching films and having cuddles. He was endlessly patient and gentle with her, just as he was with every dog and person he met.
I honestly don’t know what my weeks are going to look like now without him in them.
Bex and Steve, thank you for trusting me with your beautiful boy for all these years. Thank you for letting me be such a big part of his life, and thank you for allowing me to be there with you today. It was one of the hardest things I’ve ever done, but being able to help surround Dylan with love and familiarity in his final moments was something I’ll always be grateful for.
I’m going to miss him more than words can say, and I know his walking buddies will too.
We’ve lost far too many of our gang over the last couple of years. It brings me some comfort to think they’re all together again now, heading off on another walk, tails wagging, waiting for us.
Run free, beautiful boy. Thank you for every walk, every cuddle, every laugh, and every memory.
I’ll love you always. ❤️