My Dog Django 2013-2026
Django was a German Shepherd x Husky. I adopted him when he was 12 weeks old and said a heartbreaking goodbye on 6th January 2026. The reason I’m sharing this memorial on my blog, is Django touches the hearts of people far and wide. He has built up somewhat of a fan base both locally and online. I couldn’t walk him without someone stopping and commenting on how striking he is, sometimes the same people again and again. I dubbed these people “Members of the Django Appreciation Society.”
How Django Found Me
I often say that we don’t choose our dogs, they choose us. It was Django who stayed sitting at my feet when his excited brothers and sisters had excitedly greeted us then ran back to their mum. He quietly approached and quietly stayed as if to say “this is my human”. For a puppy, I could sense such calmness in him, immediately. That calm energy is exactly what I was seeking in an intelligent breed such as his. It’s the calmness paired with intelligence and a natural affinity towards people, which helped to make him so easily trainable. Although he was possibly the cutest thing I had ever seen, you should never pick a dog based on their looks. I had found the full doggy package! Immediately I whole heartedly knew, this is my boy.

Raising A Gentle Giant
Django had a very calm personality. The previous dogs I had were a Collie-Spaniel cross and a Springer Spaniel. Both of these dogs were relatively high energy. Adopting such a huge dog I was a little concerned that he would be the same, only 10 x bigger. I had grown up around large dogs. My Auntie kept Flatcoat Retrievers. I would stand in her back garden throwing the ball for 3 huge retrievers to bound after the ball. Big dog’s didn’t scare me, it was purely the responsibility of him I was considering for both myself and others. Once fully grown on his hind legs he was taller than me and weighed 45kg in his prime. You could tell he was going to be huge from the size of his paws that he never quite grew into. This is why from day 1 I took Django’s training seriously, for the sake of both his wellbeing and others!
A Contented Companion
He learnt so fast and shaped into the most well behaved dog our family has ever had the pleasure to own. Although walking along with my parent’s Springer Spaniel and Django together, we accidentally resembled undercover police! Django turned out to be a very calm and steady presence in the house. Whenever someone would come to the door, he would stand to attention like a smart soldier, starring at them through the window and “buffing” at them in a firm way as if to say “step any closer buddy, you’ll regret it” but he never barked without reason. Nor did he ever have cause to hurt anyone, alhamdulillah.
It was easy to forget his husky heritage at times, until I would inspire a good howl! Or in the winter, he would love to go and stand or lay outside in the snow. I had to remember he has a triple thick layered coat, he doesn’t feel the cold like I do and let him cool off. His favourite game was catching snowballs in the snow and he was excellent at it!

A Brave Guard
Any German Shepherd owner has at some point witnessed their dog’s loyalty and willingness to defend them. All it would take is a sharp “shhhhhh” at Django and he would back off, due to his intense loyalty and drive to please us. Having seen his fierce side such as protecting me from my driving instructor who was coming over at the park to congratulate me on my new born baby in the pram, I wouldn’t take any chances.
When I would feel the rumble of his warning growl through the lead, I’d warn friends to remain a respectable distance whilst we chatted! Off lead he was always the perfect gentleman and never liked to veer to far from us, true to his guarding instincts. However, this was a stark contrast to the absolute wimp he could be at home. From the kitchen mop, to fishermen, Django played the perfect part of The Cowardly Lion from The Wizard of Oz (I mean he had the paws for it!).
Guarding breeds have a heightened natural tendency towards anxiety. This helps them to assess “danger” for the sake of what they are bred to do. However it can play out as unchecked anxiety disorders if it isn’t managed. Thankfully, it never did! I always took a calm assertive approach towards encouraging Django to remain curious of things instead of becoming scared. However, the mop fell over unexpectedly one day and was never forgiven!
Saying Goodbye
Django was beautiful in every way, right down to his final breath. He even let out a small grunt to warn the vet, respectfully fierce until the very end. Thats who he was, super soft on the inside, but carried a presence which demanded respect, to warn people off. I used to joke that people part like the sea from the story of Musa عليه السلام, when they see you walking towards them with Django on the lead. My brave boy.
By the time we lost him, he couldn’t walk at all. The day he departed, his soul was beginning to leave as the vet approached him. I still can’t believe he has gone. It’s amazing how much you’re subconscious believes they are still here. His place to relax and be close to us was under the bay window of the living room. The other day I went to draw the curtains. Instinctively, I stepped over him, only to look down and see an empty space 💔

Lessons I’ve Learnt
There is grief in my heart. Its like I’ve been stung deep inside. However, my faith gives me forbearance. Here’s a few lessons I have learnt from loosing my beloved Django:
1. Not to kid yourself. When you adopt a dog, you hope to outlive it, otherwise you will have died young which is a bigger tragedy. Especially for your family.
2. He didn’t die young. He outlived his life expectancy by 50% for a giant breed. In dog years he was around 97 years old. So, Be grateful for the time you have had. It’s unrealistic to expect them to live forever.
3. Trust your instinct. Multiple times the vets got it wrong in the course of his life. he had death sentences three times in his life which he long and comfortably outlived. Always trust your instinct and be willing to go for a second opinion.
4. Life goes on. We don’t want to live a world where they’re not with us, but its necessary and it’s what they would want for us.
5. Dogs unite hearts – Even in the loss of Django so many people on my instagram have reached out to say how Django touched their hearts, even though they never met him. Sometimes sharing life’s gifts is truly a blessing. We always called him “larger than life” and his presence in this world was certainly just that!
6. Gone but not forgotten – They live on in your heart. Show patience and continue to tell the story of your dog to the world.
7. Dogs bring people together in ways humans simply just can’t. I have met the most wonderful community of Muslim dog owners through Django – this is his legacy.
8. You can be a Muslim and keep your dog. Muslims don’t hate dogs. The misconception that Muslims hate dogs comes from cultural beliefs rooted in superstition vs fiqh which simply outlines how to manage the cleanliness of a dog-human relationship. The underlying assumption is that there will be relationships between dog and humans! The hate is rooted in culture. In reality, the act of keeping a dog is an act of charity.
9. Small dogs get away with murder – When walking Django small dogs would lunge at him yapping their heads off. Their owners justify it saying their dog was just defending themselves – from what? If Django had done the same behaviour they’d have told me I need to put him down 🙄
10. Not all big dogs outgrow your home. Some just burrow their way calmly into your heart. But temperament is everything, if you’re going large when adopting a dog, seek the calm one and thank me later!
11. Dogs are there when people aren’t. They really do get you through the toughest of times. They are that constant companion who never let’s you down.
12. The love and joy they bring us still outweighs the grief of loss.
“It’s better to have loved and lost than to never have loved at all.”
I’d love to read your memories of Django or tributes to your beloved 4 legged friends who have departed this world in the comments below.





5 responses
I stumbled upon your blog Cherry whilst browsing through my social media. Two things caught my attention – Muslim woman and dog. My niece recently bought a dog and there was a lot of controversy around her having it. She decided to go ahead and Chai is now the centre of attention for all of us. My mother who is 92 loves him ❤️
Anyway back to Django he caught my eye, not only was he very striking but there was something in his eyes which almost spoke to me. I have always been a cat person and have been petrified of dogs, especially big ones.
I started following your blog and somehow felt quite connected to Django, I even began to see other dogs who reminded me of him. Strange feeling it was and when I heard he was ill, I kept wondering how would Cherry manage
life be without him? As with other losses we all go through, you think you’ll never get over it but you do, you always do. Allah does not give us more pain than we can bear. Somehow the sorrow focuses on memories and soon enough the memories bring such happiness you feel so blessed and privileged to have shared a tiny part of that.
What a lovely heartfelt post this is, thank you for telling us all about Django and sharing his story and the lovely pics! I did chuckle at the comparison between him and the cowardly lion when it came to the mop!
Bless him, Django many of us didn’t meet you but we adored you all thanks to your owner.
I thank you also Cherry for the humble reminder to be grateful I often talk about my old tom cat Ginger and how I miss him so but you’re right I had him for 14 years before he got unwell and I should thank Allah for that time and the memories that I have of him.
Animals are truly special and if anyone comes along here who hasn’t got a pet honestly get one!
İyi günler, Köpeğiniz için üzüldüm. Dünyanın geçici bir misafirhane olduğunu, asıl kalıcı yerin ahiret olduğunu hatırlatan bir şeydir ölüm. Umarım sizin sevip beslediğiniz ve en sonunda ayrıldığınız bu Django, Ashab-ı Kehf’in köpeği olan Kıtmiri hatırlatır ve onun gibi hak yolun yolcularının peşinden gidenlerden olursunuz.
Good day, I’m sorry about your dog. Death is a reminder that this world is a temporary guesthouse, and the hereafter is the true, permanent abode. I hope that Django, whom you loved and cared for and finally parted ways with, reminds you of Kitmir, the dog of the Companions of the Cave, and that you will be among those who follow the path of truth, just like him.
Sweet Django, our beautiful four-legged friend 🤍
You were more than just a dog, you were calm, loyal, protective, and endlessly loving specially with your family (that loves you so much and misses you deeply). You carried such strength, kindness, a gentle soul, and a presence that made everyone feel safe. I remember when I first came around and met you, your human mama was like “let me settle him first, then you can come in” never barked or anything, I came in an you sniffed me and “inspected” 🤣 but instantly felt loved by you as if you saying “I can trust her” 🥹 every time I came around you always been the best boy loved scratching the side of your belly and I believe you liked it aswell 🤍 The love you gave was pure and unconditional, and that kind of love never truly leaves, you may be gone but you are forever stitched to my heart, your auntie wishes to meet you again one day when the time is right.
Thank you for guarding hearts, for comforting without words, and for being exactly who you were. You are deeply loved, always remembered, and forever missed. Run free now, brave boy. 🐾✨