In Loving Memory of Koval

As you may know, Nik and I sadly said goodbye to our best buddy, Koval the Dog on December 23, 2025. It was one of the hardest things we’ve ever done and are still not over it. This is a long overdue post, and somewhat cathartic for me, in sharing how we came to the difficult decision of saying goodbye to Koval. Be sure to come back for part two where we celebrate his many adventures.

Farewell to Koval

I previously wrote a post about our experience with European healthcare and included some of Koval’s health changes over his last 12-16 months. None of that made this decision easier, but we’re not naive – our pets can’t live forever.

Back in December, Nik and I planned a two night stay in Monaco with Koval, partly because we needed to pad some Marriott stays before the end of 2025, but also to have one more getaway with our best buddy.

Once we looked back at Koval’s changes, and looked ahead, we decided it was best to send him off at home after our weekend away. On the recommendation from our local vet, we used a wonderful at home vet service, Dr. Milou. We were able to make the appointment online and give all of the relevant details, especially that we don’t speak French.

Some of the thoughts in our mind included, why come home and do the doggie diaper changing, handle the cognitive decline,  sundowners etc. None of those things were going to improve and while he/we could live with those issues for many more months and probably even years, we decided it wasn’t fair or fun for Koval or us.

We had done some of the “quality of life” scales and Koval was always a little different so some of the questions weren’t applicable or didn’t help us in determining his quality of life.

Another topic we would always come back to discussing was Koval’s eating and appetite. They were still good and appetite is one thing you often hear people talk about – that there isn’t much to worry about until they stop eating. Well, I joined a Canine Cognitive Dysfunction group on Facebook, sometime in late summer 2025, and it was really eye opening to see how many other people were going through something similar with their dogs or had experienced it previously. The group was a great source for support, discussion, articles and so on.

One article shared in the group titled How Will I Know When It’s Time? included this passage that really stuck with me and gave me a new perspective:

See the Animal, Not the Disease

“Not all diseases and symptoms are equal. “One widely used signpost for knowing when it’s time is when they stop eating,” says Dr. Cox. “That’s another myth I would love to see go away. Your dog Gus had cognitive dysfunction. He’s still going to eat because that’s a physiological drive: his body’s saying ‘I’m hungry.’ But eating does not equate to quality of life and hanging so much on that one bodily function can be very confusing to families. They’ll hear it and say, ‘Well, gosh, my pet is still eating so I guess he’s ok.’ It’s better to ask the family, ‘What joy is there?’ If the pet is laying in bed all day and it hurts when they get up, they may still be eating but there’s a lot more going on.”

That passage was often on my mind the last few months of Koval’s time with us.

Something else that I read came in a newsletter sent out by Dr. Angela Youello, a vet whose specialty is senior dogs. She shared an anecdote that also made me think differently about Koval’s changes and what he wanted vs. what I wanted him to have and to feel:

“I spent an afternoon once, following Casey (my first senior dog) around the living room with a pillow in my hand. Every time he laid down on the wood floor, I’d gently slide it under his head. And every time…he’d sigh, stand back up, and lay down again a few feet away. So of course, I followed him. And of course, I tried again. And again.

Until I finally realized the truth: He didn’t want the pillow. I wanted the pillow for him.

And standing there in the late afternoon sunshine, I had one of those tiny, inconvenient moments of clarity that changes you:

Dogs don’t always want the thing we think will make them comfortable. And “quality of life” isn’t the same for every dog.

Casey wanted to feel the cool wood under his face. He wanted the freedom to shift around. He wanted me nearby — but not hovering with solutions he didn’t ask for. It made me stop and ask myself a harder question:

How many times do we project what we’d want . . . onto what our senior dog actually wants?

Sometimes comfort looks like a memory-foam bed. Sometimes it looks like a soft blanket. And sometimes . . . it looks like the floor.”

Anyway, we came back from Monaco in the afternoon on December 22. Nik roasted a chicken for dinner and made some mashed pumpkin to go with it for Koval. (Koval’s best sense was of smell and he knew whenever a chicken was being made.) That was in addition to his usual kibble dinner because the chicken took awhile to cook. Koval also got a plate of blueberries and whip cream for dessert and a glass of doggie champagne that was really some sort of pet-safe apple juice.

We spent the night watching TV; Nik and Koval shared some cheez-its and we had Koval sleep in bed with us for the first time in awhile. Koval woke up in the middle of the night around 2:30 which a few previous times had been a sign of potential poop emergency. Nik took Koval out and they had a long walk where one of them made a deposit. I’ll let you guess which one 😉

The next morning, our appointment time frame was 9:30-11:30. We were advised not to give Koval breakfast but I still gave him a few cheez-its after our morning walk. Koval had a little water and then I picked him up to be on the couch with Nik and I. Koval never once went to where his food bowl would be. I think he knew and was ready.

The vet came around 9:45. Dr. Petite was her name, spoke fluent English, and could not have been better to us and to Koval. We took care of the various bits of paperwork and payment while Koval slept on the couch. Koval’s hearing was pretty much gone so it was probably a good five minutes before he realized someone else was there. When he did, he hopped down, sniffed the vet, got some pets from her and circled and then peed in his diaper while looking out the terrace door. I wiped him off and he continued to walk a little. The vet let us have as much time as we wanted. (Nik and I got very used to his pee/diaper routine, so for us, it wasn’t surprising. The doggie diapers were a game changer for us. No shame in using them at all.)

The vet said some dogs might whimper or make some light noise when they’re administered the drugs, but not a peep from Koval. It was just Nik and I ugly crying while petting him. Again, we think he knew and was ready. Shortly after, Nik and I went for a very long walk, took a long nap and then started telling friends and family. A few days later, our local vet called to say Koval’s ashes were ready for pick up.

We haven’t exactly made a shrine to Koval, but there’s no shortage of pictures and meaningful items around our apartment in his memory.

In the area where his food bowls used to be, there’s now a bookshelf. It holds a fun portrait of Koval in what I call his Costanza pose, along with his paw print, a lock of fur, and his ashes. The bottom shelf is the placemat that was under his food bowls along with his McDonald’s French fry dog toy.

Since Koval needed extra walks as a senior, we got to know many of our neighbors in the building and started recognizing familiar faces around the neighborhood during our daily trips to the local park.

Nik and I usually adjust to new environments pretty well, but having Koval made it easier to connect with people we might not have talked to otherwise. We even celebrated him with our building neighbors on Christmas Day with a Champagne toast in the lobby. It was so nice to see how he brought us all together. Our neighbor and friend, Matt, wrote about it on his fantastic blog:

“This week our American neighbors lost their dog to old age. Anyone who has been through that experience knows how truly awful it is. The dog, Koval, was well-known throughout the building because the poor little guy had bladder issues, which meant that his Mommy and Daddy had to take him out about every twenty minutes it seemed. This meant that everyone in the building knew them and had run into them many times. To their credit, and given how distraught they were, they still managed to invite everyone to the lobby of our building for a Christmas day Champagne farewell toast. There are twenty units in our building, most of them owned by French people. I was honestly surprised at how many people showed up in the lobby at 1:00pm. I don’t think it was just because they provided the Champagne, although that didn’t hurt. Rather, I think the little dog, Koval, had touched everyone in some way. We honored Koval with a toast, and did our best in multiple languages to help the red-eyed grieving parents to find some kind of solace. The conversations flew after that.”

We certainly miss our walks and interactions with the friendly people we got to know.

If you’ve read this far, thank you. Koval meant the world to Nik and me. Writing this helped me put a lot of our thoughts into words, and I hope some of the ideas in the article I linked to resonate with you as well.