A House Full of Wizard-Shaped Holes
We adopted Wizard on March 12th, 2016 and we said goodbye to him on January 13th, 2025.




They said he was six years old when we got him, but I don’t believe it. He weighed about 75 lbs and he taught us a lot about love. He was our first dog, but we were not his first people. We all figured it out, eventually.


It became a thing that old men, passing us in public, would express a particular affinity for Wizard. “That’s a good-lookin’ dog!” they’d say. I told kids he was half-dog, half-tiger.





He hated getting wet and he loved the sun. All dogs seem pretty food-motivated but he was, like, very food-motivated? The first time we gave him turkey he started humping. He was curious, coy, sleepy, and sweet. He’d kerchuck-kerplunk down the stairs forty-five minutes after I got up, find me in the kitchen, and lean into me with his warmth and his weight. Good morning! More than anything, he hated being alone. So we made sure he wasn’t, for nine years.
We loved him so much, and he loved us right back. It was all so automatic.
And now he’s gone and our house is too big and lonely. It’s full of holes: where his beds used to be, where his stuff used to be, where he used to be. Holes in our hearts.
Buddy. Wizzy. Boo! Wizard. Thank you.