A Love Letter to Bernice: A Story of Family and Healing

In a world where I once felt unwanted, Bernice made me feel like I was her whole world, showing me that family isn’t always who you’re born with—it’s who you choose.

Losing Bernice on September 4th, 2024, has been one of the hardest moments of my life, and I feel compelled to share our story. Even though she’s no longer here, it’s impossible to imagine my life without her. I hope that by sharing our journey, others can understand just how special she was and how deeply she touched my heart.

When I first saw Bernice at a pet shop, the breeder told me she was a crossbreed, a "mongrel" that not many people wanted. But that wasn’t what I saw. To me, she was perfect. Growing up in foster care, I knew what it felt like to be unwanted. Maybe that’s why we bonded so deeply—two souls who found each other when no one else seemed to care. She wasn’t just a dog to me. She was a reflection of all the love I wanted to give and all the love I so deeply craved.  I realized that family doesn’t have to be what you’re born into; sometimes, it’s what you choose.

Family has always been a complicated concept for me. Growing up in foster care, I never had the stability or warmth that most people associate with family. The word itself used to feel distant—something other people had, something I couldn’t fully grasp. But all of that changed the day I brought Bernice home.

Bringing her home felt like I finally had a family. I didn’t have much back then—a tiny flat, a part-time job, and university. I was only 18 years old at the time, but she made it feel like home, filling every corner with her presence, laughter, and the purest kind of companionship. Every day with Bernice was a gift, a chapter in a life I never thought possible. She chewed on wires as a puppy, playfully mischievous, and always found a way to make me laugh. Bernice gave me a sense of home that I had never known. She filled the spaces in my life that had always felt empty, simply by being there. As the years went by, she became my shadow, my protector, my confidante, and the one being who never judged me. In moments of doubt, it was her steady gaze and quiet presence that made me feel seen, as if she understood everything I couldn’t put into words.

She didn’t just bring happiness; she saved me. Before Bernice, I had never truly felt loved or wanted. Growing up, I often felt like an outsider, a wanderer in a world where connection seemed elusive. But during my darkest days, when life felt too overwhelming, Bernice was my lifeline. It was as if she had this unspoken ability to know when I needed her most.

She would nuzzle her way into my arms, her soft fur soaking up my tears, or she’d bring me her favorite toy, insisting we play. In those moments, I felt a love so profound, so pure, that it carried me through the pain. She filled the empty spaces in my heart, wrapping me in a warmth I had longed for but never found. Bernice never needed to understand my words; she understood my heart. Her unwavering presence showed me what it meant to be cherished, and for the first time, I truly felt like I belonged.

Over 17 incredible years, Bernice gave me love I never knew was possible. Together, we created a lifetime of memories. She traveled to 10 countries with me, and I can still picture her bounding through open fields, running along the beach, and exploring new places with that wide-eyed curiosity that made every moment with her an adventure. Whether it was the beauty of a castle in Germany or the gentle waves of a faraway coast, she was by my side, as much a part of the experience as the place itself. I still laugh remembering her at my wedding, proudly wearing her bridesmaid dress. She stole the show, of course, and to this day, I think she knew just how special she was to me.

Before Bernice, I always thought family was something I wasn’t meant to have. But with her, I learned that family isn’t just about blood it’s about connection. We spoke different languages, but she knew me better than anyone else ever could. The kind of silent language between us, is when she sensed when I needed a cuddle, when I needed to laugh, and when I just needed her by my side. Our bond was simple, yet profound. It didn’t need words; it was built on trust, love, and loyalty. I believe she held on for as long as she did because she knew I needed her. She waited until she was certain I could stand on my own, that I wasn’t alone anymore. She was watching over me until her last breath, just as she had done for all those years. With her, I felt understood in a way that made the world seem a little less lonely.

Bernice wasn’t just a companion; she was a part of me. She saved me in ways I can never fully express, gave me strength on days I didn’t know I had any, and taught me how to love and be loved. Her loss is a pain that will never fully heal, but I find comfort in knowing that her memory will live on in my heart, guiding me through the rest of my life.

Bernice, my beautiful girl, my heart is forever yours. You are gone, but the love you gave me will never die. You were my family, my best friend, my constant companion, and my hero. Thank you for every moment, for every smile, for saving me when I needed it most. I will love you forever.

With all my love,Bernice’s Mummy