A Final Goodbye: Harley and Duke Cross the Rainbow Bridge, Together

Yesterday, we said goodbye to two very special souls—Harley and Duke. Side by side, just as they had lived, they crossed the rainbow bridge together in a moment filled with love, warmth, and heartbreaking peace.

Harley had been with us for many years. His health had been in slow decline over the past year—aging gracefully, yet showing signs that the time we had left together was growing shorter. Still, even as his steps slowed and his eyes dulled slightly, it never quite felt like time. Not for him, and certainly not for me.

Just last week, Harley seemed to slow down a little more than usual. After much thought and many difficult conversations, we made the heartbreaking decision to let him go. But we weren’t going to let him go without a proper sendoff. We gave ourselves a week—a sacred window—to spoil him endlessly, to surround him with affection, to give him every hug and treat we could. We filled those days with love, laughter, and quiet moments of reflection.

But life had one more twist to deliver. Only days after choosing to say goodbye to Harley, Duke—whose health had also been quietly deteriorating—began to fade rapidly. His spirit seemed tired, and the light in his eyes flickered in a way we hadn’t seen before. The bond between Harley and Duke was undeniable, and the thought of Duke living without his lifelong companion felt cruel. The heartbreak would have broken him. We knew, deep down, that if we let Duke stay behind without Harley, he would soon be lost in both body and spirit.

They had lived their lives together. Loyal, loving, inseparable. And in the end, they would leave this world the same way.

On Saturday night, we built a fire in the backyard. We celebrated—not in loud voices, but in quiet joy. We gave them treats they were usually never allowed—human food, rich in flavor and love. We poured wine for ourselves and savored the stillness of the night, soaking in every moment, every breath, every nuzzle. We hugged them. We kissed them. We let them know, a thousand times over, how much they meant to us.

But even then, it didn’t feel like enough.

On Sunday afternoon, after one last shared meal—chicken nuggets and ice cream from McDonald’s—Harley climbed into my lap, and Duke curled into Jamie’s. Surrounded by familiar arms and tearful whispers, they each took their last breaths. No pain. No fear. Just peace. They were held until the very end, wrapped in the only thing they ever really needed—love.

Letting them go together was the hardest decision I have ever made. But in the end, it was the most compassionate. They came into our lives as a pair, filled our days with joy, mischief, and unwavering companionship, and they left it hand in paw.

The house feels empty now. Their absence is loud. But so is the love they left behind.

Harley and Duke, thank you. For the loyalty. For the memories. For every tail wag, every snuggle, every goofy moment. You were more than pets—you were family.

“I loved you your whole life.
Now I will spend the rest of mine missing you.”