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Right now The Friend is streaming, and its plot lands like a grenade for anyone who loves both drama and dogs: when Bill Murray's character dies, he bequeaths his pony-sized Great Dane, Apollo, to his pal Iris (Naomi Watts). She's floored — both by his request (she lives in a pet-banning shoebox of an apartment in Manhattan) and by how instantly she falls for this giant. She barely wants him at first, yet the bond sneaks up on her even as the leash gets tangled in practical chaos. A 180-pound harlequin Great Dane isn't exactly the pet you can keep quiet, and dodging an eviction notice is only one of the pair's hurdles. At its core, though, it's a story about the unexpected ties we make and how they rewrite us.
Film still: Naomi Watts on set with Bing in 'The Friend'
This near twin of a plot actually happened to me years ago. When my elderly neighbor Sandra passed, I got the call asking whether I'd take her Husky, Gaia. I'd have been the last name on anyone's list. For openers, I wasn't even a dog lover.
But the moment Gaia entered my home, nothing was the same. Opening my door — and my heart — did far more than rearrange my day-to-day; it overhauled my whole life.
Before this blue-eyed senior moved in, I'd already volunteered to walk her twice daily while Sandra received hospice care at home. Still, becoming a full-time guardian took adjusting. As an empty-nester working from my house, I made my own hours: mornings at the keyboard, afternoons for errands, and leaving town was a simple lock-and-go. With no one else to answer to — not even a dog — my time belonged to me.
Welcoming her in reshaped not just my calendar but my character.
Then came Gaia. I couldn't say no to that playful presence who turned into my office-mate, snoozing at my feet. My day was hers: a walk in the morning, another at noon once she danced circles around my desk to demand we hit the pavement again. I even postponed catching flights so I could stay home with her.
My feeds went from whatever-the-algorithm-said to endless dog nutrition guides and senior-canine care tips. At each vet visit I grilled the doc with a list I'd brought in my phone.
My hesitation about taking responsibility for her faded on our walks, where I saw how calm and good-tempered she was. Something told me to enroll her as a therapy dog. I did the online training with Pet Partners, we passed the test, and soon we were volunteering at the children's hospital. Later we added a hospice, grade schools, colleges, and a 'Read with Rover' program at the library.
I'd grown up around dogs and shared homes with a few, but my caretaking skills were shaky. My son and a chorus of helpful pet-store staff became my sherpas, steering me through food puzzles, grooming gear, and harnesses. But it was Gaia herself who taught me what the human-canine bond really means.
Film still: Naomi Watts and Bill Murray in 'The Friend'
Some people who've inherited a friend's dog brought more skill to the table. In 2018, when a neighbor's mom died out of the blue and left a dog named Jules behind, Bryley Hull offered to dog-sit. She'd known the nine-year-old mixed-breed for only six weeks before deciding to keep her. 'The first time I walked into that mom's place, Jules came up and greeted me with so much friendliness,' Hull remembers. That first night, Jules followed her and curled up by her bed.
When Jules died three years later, Hull thought about how much the little dog had reshaped her life — and everyone she met. 'He was my buddy; he kept me sane through the pandemic,' she says. 'People noticed his spark, and he was so mellow that taking him out was pure pleasure.'
'What's going to happen to the dog?' is the question at the heart of The Friend — and one I heard constantly. In the stretch while I walked Gaia for my ailing neighbor and before the Husky actually moved in, friends kept asking where she'd go after Sandra died. 'I don't know,' I'd say, never dreaming that taking her myself was even on the table.
Kathy and Chris Calise grappled with the same question when their friend Nathaniel died in a motorcycle crash. A year earlier they'd watched his sweet Bull Terrier, Rosie, while he was away. They learned his sister planned to move Rosie in with five kids and six dogs — and they reached out.
'If you decide Rosie isn't the right fit, we'd happily take her,' they wrote his sister. 'We'll never replicate what she had with Nathaniel,' Kathy added, 'but we'd love her like our own.' After seeing the trio's bond, the sister let Rosie stay.
One upside to life with Gaia is all the people I've met on neighborhood strolls. Rick Venturi and his wife Carla got to know their neighbor Nancy through daily walks with their two dogs. When Nancy brought home Major, a one-eyed Pit Bull, her health was slipping, so the Venturis offered to walk him twice a day. When Nancy landed in the hospital repeatedly, Major — and later her cat, Patches — stayed with them.
The couple never meant to adopt again, but fate had other plans. One night Nancy called from the hospital and asked whether they'd take guardianship of her pets. Venturi said yes and promised to bring Major to visit her at the care home the next day. The following morning, when Nancy wouldn't answer her phone, he learned from her daughter that she'd died.
'Major layers a whole new kind of love into our home,' says Venturi. 'Having him here now feels like a little piece of Nancy's spirit still lives with us.'
Gaia and I have shared two and a half years, and she's flipped me from dog-indifferent to full-fledged dog devotee. Much as I adore this stubborn, patient, kind Husky, I have to admit: had I said no, a dog would never have found a place in my life. I certainly would never have chosen a big senior dog who's pushed me to be friendlier, more comfortable talking to strangers, and more eager to give back. Now, like Iris on-screen, I can't picture my days without her.
This story first appeared in the award-winning Modern Dog magazine. Subscribe today!
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