Today, I read an article in The Guardian about a dog who was a constant companion to his caregiver during his wife's treatment for ovarian cancer and, even more so, after she passed away. In The pet I’ll never forget: Jake the golden retriever, who offered us love during the worst time of our lives, Alan Payling writes:

During Carolyn’s long illness, Jake was a constant companion and friend, offering love during the worst times of our lives. In 2005, when Carolyn died and William was then away at university, Jake was still there with me, reminding me that life had to go on. There would have been a much bigger void in my life without him. A house that could have felt terribly empty and cold still felt something like a home when I came back to it, particularly when I had to leave Jake by himself. But generally, Jake came with me because I could always fit in a walk somewhere.

Like Jake, my dog was a stable presence in my life during my treatment for ovarian cancer and, later, perianal skin cancer. Freddie was already 13½ when I was diagnosed with ovarian cancer—an advanced age for a large dog. I remember hoping that my beautiful goldendoodle would see me through cancer, and he did just that. He lived to almost 15¾, until he succumbed to cancer himself.

In his final days, I slept on an inflatable mattress near the front door of our house, right next to Freddie, so that I could be close to him if he needed to go out in the middle of the night. I would often awake to find Freddie's big face bent over mine, while he waited for me to open my eyes. I would throw on a long coat and some boots, and we'd head out under the stars. He had been there for me during my cancer, and I was happy to be there for him during his final days.