I’m not the first person to lose a dog. Nor is this the first dog I’ve lost. Yet, I find myself free falling in an alternate universe of grief unlike anything I’ve experienced.
This one hurts deeply, not only because I’ve lost “the sweetest puppy in the whole wide world” – a subtitle we bequeathed to our four-pound puddle of white fur when we got her – but also because my husband, children and I were loved so purely by her furry sweetness for many years. Honey would have been 14 on Friday, an occasion that would call for a birthday hat, Twistee Treat pup cup and presents. Lots of presents.
But, two weeks earlier, Honey’s heart gave out quickly and unexpectedly, maybe because she gave so much of it to us her entire life.
I believe there are two kinds of dog owners: those who have dogs as pets and those who have dogs as family. We fell into the latter.
We started out as pet owners the first day we brought Honey, a tiny Chihuahua Poodle mix, home with every intention to keep her in the oversized kennel in the laundry room. That lasted until midnight when Mike “rescued” (his words, not mine) our crying Chi-Poo from her “prison” (again, his words) and plopped square in the middle of our bed, a spot she kept for the rest of her life. She became family that night and, as such, I offer this obituary in her honor.

Honey Bun “H.B.” Mangan, The Sweetest Puppy in the Whole Wide World
Ocala – Honey Mangan passed away on Sept. 21, 2016. A longtime resident of Ocala, Honey was born on Oct. 14, 2002, in Belleview, Florida before being rescued by a family of four, whom she rescued with love in return.
She was a graduate of Pet Smart’s Puppy Training, but just barely. She repeatedly failed the impulse-control exercises, looking at her owners as if to say, “Is this really necessary?” She was a compassionate caregiver to her human dad, mom, brother and sister — encouraging them to join her in her affinity for long naps, soft blankets and a really good piece of cheddar cheese.
She became an avid photo hound, literally. She loved the camera and vice versa. Honey was the original photo bomber. Holidays were her favorite mainly because it was an opportunity to open presents. On Christmas morning, she would sit on the couch waiting her turn to open her gifts, excitedly ripping the paper with her teeth in gleeful abandon. Then she’d hop off the couch and stand by her stocking filled with treats and toys until someone with good sense would take the darn sock off the mantle.
Sometimes, Honey was the source of inspiration for her mom’s writing, so often attracting the most reader feedback that mom considered being a one-topic/one-dog writer.
Honey is survived by her loving dad, Mike; mom, Amy; and two siblings, Griffin and Gillian. She eased their pain when life got rough, instinctively knowing when someone needed extra attention. A celebration of her life was attempted last weekend when the children came home from college, but the emptiness in the house where Honey lived and ruled was too present. So, the family has decided that every day will be a celebration of life because Honey remains in the everyday moments.
In lieu of flowers, Honey’s family would like you to honor her memory by doing exactly what she did for almost 14 years of her life: love others freely. And take long naps with a soft blanket from time to time.