Hiro Nakamura

2008 - 2025

With broken hearts, we say goodbye to our beloved Hiro Nakamura, a sweet boy who brought endless joy, laughter, and love into our lives for over 16 years. Named after the time-traveling character from Heroes, Hiro lived his life with the same boldness and curiosity—always ready for the next adventure, always surprising us with his boundless energy and big personality.

Hiro came into our lives in the middle of a snowstorm, a tiny, lively puggle who instantly claimed his place in our family and in our hearts. Technically, he was a Christmas present, but in reality, he was so much more—a steadfast companion, a source of daily joy, and the most loving, mischievous little guy we could have ever hoped for.

From the very start, Hiro had a zest for life that was impossible to ignore. He loved to run—fast. At the dog park, he could outrun even the biggest dogs, turning on a dime with incredible agility. His energy and enthusiasm made every game of chase an event, and his love for playing never faded. One favourite moment was when he dragged our friend's one-year-old boxer down the hallway while they were both gripping a Holey Roller toy—Hiro simply wasn’t ready to be done playing!

He had an obsession with squeaky toys, always determined to conquer them as fast as possible! His routine never changed: first, he’d gnaw on the toy until he freed the squeaker, then he’d toss it around and chew on it, taking immense satisfaction in his victory. Stuffed toys never stood a chance—he’d pull out all the stuffing and, to our dismay, even try to eat it! Eventually, we learned to only get him toys without stuffing, though he was never as impressed with the hard, indestructible ones. He needed to win.

Hiro had an incredible ability to surprise us. Once, at the vet’s office, he stunned everyone by leaping from the floor straight onto the exam table—a feat no one expected from such a little dog. He was fearless, determined, and had an independent streak that kept us on our toes.

He was also deeply devoted to his family. When we brought Gillian home from the hospital, Hiro was right there, tail wagging wildly, eager to sniff and welcome her. As she grew, he remained our family’s loyal companion, always nearby, keeping an eye on us.

Hiro had a knack for claiming things as his own. When Jeremy brought home a big red pillow for the backyard hammock, Hiro dragged it down, settled onto it, and refused to give it up—it was his now. And one Christmas morning, surrounded by piles of presents, Hiro somehow sniffed out the one that was meant for him, excitedly tearing it open to claim his new toy without any input from any of us!

As he grew older, the cataracts clouded thicker eventually removing his eyesight. HIs world became smaller, but his love never wavered. He found comfort in touch, always wanting to be close, snUggling up to his favourite people.

When he couldn't snuggle up to us on the couch or in a bed, He had his special claimed pillow downstairs and a dog bed under Mom's desk, where he could be near her while she worked. He loved his little cave - Gillian even placed one of her stuffies in his bed and made a picture to hang beside it—small gestures of love for a dog who gave us so much. To protect him, We lined the bottom of the desk with pool noodles so he wouldn’t bump his head hard, but even when he couldn’t see well, he still wanted to be near us.

There were things he never grew to love—like having his nails trimmed. No matter how much we tried to get him comfortable with it, he would fight with everything he had. At one point, when being held for a trim, he twisted and thrashed so wildly he would have broken his own legs just to escape. Eventually, we accepted defeat and left it to the professionals. He may have been small, but he was fierce when he wanted to be.

Hiro’s adventures extended to the water, though he was hesitant at first. During summers at the camp on Lake Penage, he was wary of swimming, but once he got the hang of it, he loved being in the lake. At first, when he paddled, he would kick so hard with his front paws that water would shoot up out of the water, splashing him in the face, he would bark at the water, snapping at the splashes he himself had created. Eventually, he figured it out and swam more smoothly—but never for too long. He didn’t care about swimming just to swim; he wanted to be with us in the water.

One of his funniest water-related skills was rock diving. He learned from a family dog, Beth, how to retrieve rocks from the lake. He’d stick his entire snout underwater, blowing bubbles as he tried to grab a rock to carry to shore. Throwing sticks or rocks into the lake became another favourite game. But Hiro, always the adventurer, sometimes took things too far. One time, he got confused and he started swimming toward the middle of the lake and wouldn’t turn back. After that, we got him a doggy life jacket—which he hated. The good thing was that when we put it on him, he refused to move, so it worked as intended!

When the pandemic hit, Hiro was in his glory, thrilled to have his family home all the time. He was never happier than when he was surrounded by his people, sharing in our daily lives, soaking up every moment of love and companionship.

Hiro was more than just a pet—he was a part of us. He was mischievous, stubborn, playful, and endlessly loving. He made us laugh, comforted us in our hardest moments, and filled our days with joy. The absence of his furry little face, his wagging tail, and his endless antics is a grief too heavy to put into words. We are astonished to consider that we will never see him again, never hear his paws tick tacking on the floor, never feel his furry body next to us. The question, How do we live in a world that Hiro isn’t a part of, is too difficult to answer.

What we do know though, is that his love, his spirit, and his memory will never fade. He was the best dog—our dog, our family. We were so lucky to have him, and we will love and miss him forever.

At bedtime, he would snuggle into our “Gilly sandwich” hug, always happy to be close, always wanting to be part of the love. He was our little pickle that completed our sandwich, and we will always miss him.

Run free, sweet boy. You will always be in our hearts. ❤️