09.10.2025 / Everyday matters
Björn's passing
Björn's passing has shaken us so much that I feel the need to reevaluate my life. It doesn't matter that we had time to say goodbye. And even though we have his beautiful children in our kennel. When I look at them, I see a part of him, but it doesn't bring him back, doesn't soothe the pain or longing. His trophies and awards from competitions and exhibitions, nor his entire gallery of beautiful portraits, help. Our daughter has lost her best canine friend—and we have lost a special companion whom nothing will ever bring back. I wish I could rewind time and ride a bike with him just once—when we were racing through the forest together, nothing else mattered. I'd love to see him once again tickle Kaja or Maja with his nose—he made them laugh until they were exhausted, yet remained very tender and cautious. His gentleness reminded me of a cat—he didn't accidentally knock things over and knew exactly how to play with small children without causing them any harm. This set him apart from the rest of our dogs – often the crazy females, or Fenris, who seemingly doesn't know where he ends and begins. I'd love to see that enthusiastic expression on his face again, those twinkling eyes that asked what the next adventure would be. And watch him try to guess what he could do to make us happy. I'd love to play with him, just like that, pet him, and cuddle him.
But I can't.
I can only allow myself to feel this sense of hopeless loss, and then piece by piece, pick myself up and appreciate every moment spent with our special dogs even more. Because when their time is over, there will be no more repeats.