Earlier this month, our 15-year-old dog died, leaving our household grieving and heartbroken.

Readers may recall that in August my two dogs saved me from a bear in Minakami, Gunma Prefecture, barking and chasing it off after it had swiped my head and arm. Had they not come to my aid, my injuries would have been far more severe. It was a last act of brave loyalty from Rhubarb, an aging dog that only had a few months to live, ably assisted by her 11-year-old sibling Goro. At only 14 kg, Rhubarb didn't hesitate to charge a bear that weighed well over 100 kg.

Rhubarb was a lovely and devoted pet with a captivating "dognality." She was a spark of liveliness and mischief in our house, always deciding when we would wake with her peremptory bark — "it's time for my walk" — usually around 5 a.m. in summer and 6 a.m. in the cooler months. She also raised Goro, who was sired by the same father, Ochan. Both Rhubarb and Goro took after their father — a Shiba Inu-German shepherd mix — and had his distinctive black snout and otherwise typical Shiba tan and white coloring.