Rocco

It’s 5:30 am, and let me just say, mornings and I? Not friends. I’m like a solar-powered machine—functional during the day, productive at night—but I need my solid 8 hours of beauty sleep to run at full capacity. Fun fact: I can sleep anywhere. Yes, it’s my superpower. Planes, airports, hotel lobbies—you name it, I’ve napped there. With all the time zones I zip through, it’s a pretty handy trick. This time, I’m off to Cancun, bright-eyed and sleep-deprived, to host Hill’s Global Symposium 2024.

Sitting on the plane, I glance at my screen and see an ad for a United cruise. It promises a lineup of activities I can confidently say I never want to do. But the pièce de résistance? A shot of the majestic Norwegian fjords… paired with a mini racetrack on board. Yes, go-karts zipping around in endless loops. I can practically hear the roar of the engines echoing off the pristine cliffs.

So let me get this straight: you’re cruising through one of the most serene and untouched landscapes on Earth, and you decide it’s the perfect time to go go-karting? The logic escapes me entirely.

At the airport I am greeted by Marcos whose parents started a tourist business in the peninsula 60 years ago. Before that his father was F&B director hotel Sheraton. Marcos is now active in the company for 11 years and he loves it.

I asked him if he had any animals, and his face clouded with sadness.

“My best friend passed away,” he began, his voice soft. “A golden retriever named Rocco. He was 14 years old—an incredible age for a golden. He was perfect in every way: shaking hands, chasing tennis balls, even ‘praying’ when I asked him to. Oh, how he loved those tennis balls.

“But one day, I threw the ball, and he just looked at it. For the first time, he said, ‘No, I’m too tired.’ That’s when I knew. It was time. But knowing doesn’t make it any easier, does it? Losing a friend like that… it’s devastating.”

He paused, lost in thought. “Before Rocco, we had another dog, Blondie, who also lived to 14. But Rocco… Rocco was my spirit animal. You only get one of those in your lifetime, I think.

“He loved the beach—playing in the sand, running like a madman, and swimming. Oh, if there was water, Rocco was in it. Once, I left the shower door open, and in he came, tail wagging like it was the best day ever. I tried to stop him, but it was impossible. He was always faster than me!”

He chuckled softly at the memory, then his tone grew somber again. “That last day… I called him, and he didn’t come. I tried to tempt him with a ball, his favorite thing in the world, but he said, ‘No.’ I called the vet, and they told me it was time. Letting him go was the hardest thing I’ve ever done. How do you say goodbye to your best friend, your partner, your support?

“When my mother passed away, Rocco stayed by my side, his head in my lap, refusing to leave me. He pulled me through the darkest time of my life. I’ll never forget how, when I was at my lowest, he’d gently take my hand in his mouth, almost as if to say, ‘I’m here for you.’

He pulled out his phone and showed me a picture of a tiny Labrador puppy. “This was Rocco, the day I brought him home. I come from a place with lots of dogs—17 in total—but I’ve never known one like him.

“It’s been ten months now, and I’m still not ready for another dog. Maybe one day I’ll get another Labrador, but they won’t be Rocco. Still, I’m so grateful for those 14 years. He was the best.”

He sighed, his voice catching slightly, and I could see how deeply he still missed his friend.