F1 driver Lewis Hamilton was one of four Vogue cover stars for the May issue, each one of the four being a co-chair for this year’s Met Gala and its theme “Superfine: Tailoring Black Style,” a celebration of Black Dandyism. It was one of the all-time best dressed nights for the event, with a particularly fantastic look from Lewis. Still, I think it’s safe to say the honor paled in comparison to three months later when Roscoe Hamilton, Lewis’ scrumptious bulldog companion, landed the cover of Dogue in August. Roscoe proudly showed off his beatific rumples and rolls for the camera, but it was this comment in the profile which proved to be a bit haunting: “It’s been a big year for the Hamilton family, and we can only imagine what the duo might accomplish next.” There was no way to know at the time, but sadly, Roscoe was called to cross the rainbow bridge just one month later. Being the parent responsible for making that devastating decision — the one that’s best for the pup but breaks your heart — is never easy, and Lewis poured his heart out in a tribute to Roscoe the day after he passed. It’s now been a month, and Lewis just shared more of his raw grief in an interview conducted on the eve of what would have been Roscoe’s 13th birthday:
“I miss him so much. I’ve never missed anything so much in my life. It’s his birthday tomorrow and he would have been 13. It’s a very strange kind of time in my life because now I go home and his bed is there, his toys are there and I haven’t moved them. I see things that remind me of him every day.
A lot of fans [are] doing amazing drawings and giving me gifts. It’s a beautiful thing… somehow through this grief, it’s brought me closer to people because so many people in the world experience loss and grief.
I met someone today. They’re like, ‘I lost two of my dogs in one month just recently.’ It has given me a lot of hope that there are really good people in the world.
We live in a really divided time around the world… There’s a lot of people particularly in high power positions that clearly don’t have any empathy [and] don’t care about people. So it’s really great to connect with people in that respect.
I’m going to miss him. Every Christmas I go to the mountains with him and play in the snow. I don’t have that now.
Someone asked me earlier on, ‘are you going to get another dog?’ I can’t replace it. It’s not a car, you know? I can’t just go and get a new one. He was my son.”
[From Behind Grand Prix via YouTube]
Oh honey, I know your pain. I was a wreck last year when I lost My Girl, who like Roscoe, was also only 12 when she passed. I knew she was aging, but it felt like all of a sudden all her systems were shutting down. We’re lucky that we live just a block and a half from our vet, and one tiny bit of comfort I had in knowing I was making the right decision was the fact that she couldn’t do the whole walk that last time; I had to carry her most of the way. But even knowing that it’s the right decision doesn’t make it any easier. I cried reading Lewis’ honest, candid words, and I’m crying again recalling the final days I had with My Girl. It’s a heartbreak like no other. I don’t know if this means I’m not as strong as Lewis, but my way through grief was indeed to get another dog. It happened a lot sooner than I thought it would, but like they say, the dog finds you. My Guy hopped into my lap at the shelter and it was all over. He doesn’t replace My Girl; no one ever could, and I cherish the keepsake that greets me everyday — a picture of My Girl above an indentation of her paw print. But I am so so glad that I welcomed My Guy as soon as I did. To me, it was the best way to honor My Girl’s memory, to bring home another rescue. So my wish for Lewis is that someday he’ll find his next son or daughter. Not as a replacement, but as an addition. Someone to race through life with.
Photos credit: Lee Floyd/Avalon, Photoshot/Avalon, Photoshot/Avalon, ATP/Look Press/Avalon, Cover Images and via Instagram
The death of a beloved animal is hard. Toby and Christopher were my soulmates and they both died. I have 3 dogs now but I still miss those two.
I’m 68 and I’ve lost a number of beloved animal companions in those years. It never ever gets any easier. I always get another dog (or 3). No one can replace the darling I lost but they make their own place in my heart. Grief is the price we pay for that love. One day when he least expects it Rosco will send someone new to help heal his heart. I have Christmas ornaments for all the ones I’ve lost over the years since marrying my husband. I hope I don’t have to add a new ornament to the tree this year like I did last year.
My heart aches for him and for you. I’ve lost fur babies over the years and it never gets easier but for me, getting another rescue (or 2 this latest time) helped with the grief. The house is just too empty without a pet or pets. Our cats bring us joy and need us as much as we need them. They are not a replacement but additions in their own unique ways. I hope Lewis can heal to the point where he is able to welcome another fur baby to share his life with.
I get Lewis’s comment completely: he’s lost a person and, for me, that meant working through the weeks and months of grief. What helped, and it really did, was increasingly remembering all the funny things that my beloved woof (springer spaniel) did – his antics were regularly laugh out loud funny.
So my only advice, Lewis, is look back at photos and memories of how much Roscoe amused you and made you laugh out loud – and really treasure that. You were lucky to have such a wonderful hound in your life, and he was lucky to have you.
There’s a once in lifetime bond you can form with a furry companion. We shared 4 years of our lives with a rescue tuxedo cat, who we adopted for our son, but whom inexplicably bonded with me. This cat and I were inseparable. I miss him to this day. I have never been able to replace him.
We had a Lab named Cody who was the perfect dog. We loved him so much and he was very much a family member. He was pure white, very stately looking, and strangers asked to take his picture regularly. But the best thing is that he was a true companion, ready for adventure, and ready for snuggles at the end of the day. We buried his ashes beneath a huge oak tree and put a brass plaque on the tree.
Well damn. First post I read today and am now a complete puddle.
Jake passed over the rainbow bridge last Tuesday, just 10 days short of his 20th birthday. I met him when he was 12. He was the dog nobody wanted. Got kicked out of 5 different homes for various poor behaviours. Things I never saw because in our home, he was a dog, not a fur baby or our ‘child’. Jake would bite folks if they ‘baby-talked’ to him. He was an adult male, he knew he was an adult male and would not stand to be disrespected. Well, I cannot correct/redirect behaviour I don’t see. So….he stayed. For the first 3 years he didn’t make much impact. He was just there. But after our resident dog died, Jake became top dog. For the next 3 years, he was the only dog. About 18 months ago we got an aussie/shepherd mix who was 4.5 when we met. Jake taught her the house rules. As Jake started to crumble under the weight of his years (blind first, then deaf) he would get confused & scared. I could send the aussie out to guide him back to me. They seemed to ignore each other for the most part, but they both knew they were part of the same team. Now Jake is gone, Grace and I both keep looking around for him. I’m grateful to already have another dog in the house, as living 100% alone would not be something I could survive, honestly. Our pets, at least, my pet, anchors my life. Forces me into routines I desperately need. So yes, Lewis and Kismet and all, grieve your pets. Because love is love. From being non-committal towards Jake to having him as an only dog, to having him be resident dog, then top dog towards Gracie, Jake brought a quiet dignity to every day. He was a stoic, loyal little character, and I’m glad to have had the last 8 years of his life with him. Jake was a good dog.
what a beautiful hommage to your dogs and your heart
I am an Old who has loved and lost four special fur companions. All four loved their way into my heart and each is remembered as a special gift to our family’s life. We still talk about our absent ones and remember their special contributions to our family lore and traditions. I hope Lewis eventually is able to open up to a new son or daughter. Each new fur person is NOT a replacement for a lost one (impossible), but a chance to grow your love.
This is the second dog that Lewis has lost. He had another bulldog, her name was CoCo. He used to travel with Roscoe and CoCo everywhere.
I looked for four years and found my soul dog. Every day with him I know that he is healing me and I am thankful for our time together. Wherever you find love, bask in it.
It’s very sad to lose a pet. But he wasn’t your son. And most dog people do get another dog, which doesn’t ‘replace’ the dog they lost but is a new start.
Couldn’t agree more with you, Kismet.
Losing a pet is the worst, whether it’s a cat or dog or hamster…. it breaks the heart and the grief is immense. No one can replace them.
I deal with the grief by immediately adopting another rescue (takes 4 weeks from signing the papers to picking them up due to vaccination requirements). Not as a replacement, but as another soul in need of a loving home, and in my home there is an empty spot. Caring for the new family member deflects from grieving, the other (dogs for me now) are happy to have a new buddy and stop searching for the one gone too soon. And the shelter has an open spot for the next dog to take in, to nurse back to health, and to find a new home. It’s a win win situation.
Will I ever forget the ones I loved? Never. They are in my heart, my memories, and I hope once I cross the rainbow bridge we will be together again.
I totally get Lewis calling his dog his son. I love Lewis and only wish him the best. May he heal and be happy again.