Googly, My Therapist with a Tail

There’s a particular kind of quiet that settles in after your child leaves for college. Not the peaceful kind. It’s more like, “Has the fridge always hummed this loudly?” kind of quiet. My daughter left last year, and even though I had time to adjust, she was home for a month recently… and now that she’s left again, the silence feels new all over again.

Thankfully, I’m not completely alone in it.

Googly, my beagle, has been with us for four years now. He didn’t come into our lives because the nest got emptier. He was already here, happily trotting around, demanding attention and snacks. But once she left, I realised how much space he really takes up, not just in the house, but in my everyday emotions too.

He’s the one who keeps my days moving. Especially during my usual 2 to 3 pm therapy slot. That time when I’m usually deep in session, holding space for someone else’s story. That’s exactly when Googly decides it’s time for a walk. Not later, not in ten minutes. Now. He doesn’t bark or whine at first, just appears quietly, gives me the look, and starts pacing like a little boss. If I ignore him, the sighs begin. Loud, exaggerated ones. It’s honestly very dramatic.

But that break he forces me to take? It does something. We step out, just around the society, nothing fancy. I say hi to neighbours, he sniffs familiar corners with serious commitment. And in that small window, I get to breathe. I come back lighter, more present, and sometimes smiling at how he tried to play with a leaf like it was a new friend.

When I find myself missing my daughter, which happens more often than I say out loud, it’s Googly who pulls me back. He senses it. He’ll sit closer, bring a toy, or just look at me like, “Hey, I’m still here.” He doesn’t say much, obviously, but it feels like he gets it.

Even my husband and I have started talking about Googly like he’s this third little creature shaping our world. From guessing why he’s whining again (he wants to play. Again.) to sharing how someone in the society complimented his beautiful eyes today, he’s become the center of so many unexpected conversations. And we honestly enjoy it. It’s silly and light and full of affection, and it fills the little quiet corners that sneak in when kids grow up and the house changes.

A dog doesn’t replace your child. They’re not meant to. But when the rhythm of your home shifts, and the room that once echoed with “Mamma” now just feels still, having a dog is a gentle reminder that love still lingers in the smallest, funniest, furriest forms.

Especially when that someone is named Googly Waghmare.🌼