In partnership with
/
I lived in India for six years, six years that stretched me, challenged me, and softened me in ways I never expected.
The cultural shock was real.
Every day felt like learning a new language, even when the words were the same.
But India also gave me something I could never have found anywhere else:
friends who became family, laughter that healed, gossip that felt like therapy, and a sense of belonging that surprised me.
Living there also opened my eyes to something I had never seen so clearly before, how deeply a person’s life can be shaped by the family they’re born into.
The line between privilege and struggle wasn’t invisible.
It was right there, in front of me.
And as a foreigner, I could walk between both worlds.
Many couldn’t.
That truth stayed with me.
But today, I want to talk about someone who carried a huge part of that chapter with me.
Bobby.
My chaotic, messy, stubborn, hilarious Bobby.
/
We brought him home in 2015 because we thought our other dog was lonely.
She wasn’t.
She hated him immediately.
And honestly… I understood why.
Bobby was a walking disaster.
He ate shoes.
He pooped in the living room.
He chewed my daughter’s diapers.
He ran away whenever he saw an open door.
He hated car rides.
He refused dog beds, dog houses, and dog food.
He wanted laps, attention, and trouble, always.
But he was also the gentlest soul with children.
He helped my daughter learn to walk.
He let her sit on him like a horse, something that made me crazy, but he never complained.
He just stayed close, always wanting to be near the people he loved.
When we moved to the Netherlands, he discovered snow and fell in love with it.
Life got busier, kids growing, a new baby arriving, but Bobby stayed Bobby.
Eating mosquitoes in the garden, stealing plants, running on the beach, sunbathing like he owned the world.
He was furry, funny, stubborn, and full of life.
And then came 2024.
Two days after my birthday, he ate an elastic from my daughter’s sewing kit.
We didn’t know.
He seemed fine… until he wasn’t.
He started vomiting.
Stopped eating.
Became so, so sad.
We rushed him to the vet.
Two surgeries.
And then… he was gone.
8 years and 4 months old.
28 February 2024.
We were devastated.
The kids couldn’t go to school for two days.
They couldn’t play.
They couldn’t stop thinking about him for months.
Because Bobby wasn’t just a dog.
He was the warmth in our home.
The energy.
The noise.
The missing socks and toys we still find hidden in impossible places.
Just recently, during a walk in our neighborhood, our dog found one of Bobby’s old toys, the one we thought was lost forever.
Buried near the lake, like he had hidden it for us to find one day.
We stood there with a mix of sadness and gratitude.
Because even in his absence, Bobby still finds ways to come back to us.
For anyone who has lost a companion who felt like family…
I understand your pain.
I truly do.
And I hope you also find those small, unexpected reminders, the ones that hurt and heal at the same time, reminding you how lucky you were to love them.
Tech moves fast, but you're still playing catch-up?
That's exactly why 200K+ engineers working at Google, Meta, and Apple read The Code twice a week.
Here's what you get:
Curated tech news that shapes your career - Filtered from thousands of sources so you know what's coming 6 months early.
Practical resources you can use immediately - Real tutorials and tools that solve actual engineering problems.
Research papers and insights decoded - We break down complex tech so you understand what matters.
All delivered twice a week in just 2 short emails.