What My Narcissistic Husband Did When We Lost Our Dog

My husband and I walked into the veterinary exam room.

I sat on the floor and placed Emma’s dog bed on my lap. I asked my husband to pick Emma up and place her on the bed. Our beautiful girl’s body was burdened with age but she showed no signs of it.

She was as fun and loving as ever.

She hugged Emma, hoping that the safety of her bed in her mother’s arms would provide more comfort.

We waited for the vet to say our final goodbyes to a sweet being who loved us more than anyone deserves. I loved our children. I endured every push and pull of childhood.

She came face to face with a snoring deer and stood as a protective shield as our son ran away. She spent every day running after our guy(s) in our yard. And every night I snuggle next to them.

I glanced at my husband.

I was a wreck but he showed no emotion.

I didn’t say anything because I realized that I was lucky that he graced us with his presence. I knew this. I needed him there. I couldn’t do this alone. I couldn’t say goodbye to my sweet old girl.

But I was completely unprepared for my husband’s ultimate reaction.

Scratch that, I was shocked.

Before I get into that, let me tell you a little about Emma’s history with my husband.

My husband and I got Emma when I was 6 months pregnant with our first child. She was a gorgeous golden retriever with the typical easy temperament that the breed is known for. It wasn’t such a big deal that I used to call her a “non-bitch”.

Because she didn’t have any bad dog habits.

She didn’t dig, surf the Internet, get into trash, jump on people, or anything else.

All she did was love her people…she loved her family.

Over the years, Emma would sit on her favorite bed and stare out. Like most dogs, she eagerly watched the comings and goings of her people, of her pack. Meanwhile, she entertained herself with the antics of deer and squirrels.

Her window seat was her happy place.

She woke up every night to greet her human father when he walked through the door.

Over time, age had consumed her incredibly cute body.

It doesn’t matter. She spied my husband’s car coming down the driveway and extricated her body from its comfortable cloth shelter.

It took a lot of effort but love galvanized her four-legged heart. She walked a few steps to the family room door and waited expectantly.

And every night, without fail, my husband would walk by.

I couldn’t bear to watch it anymore.

“How do you get past her?” I asked. “Can’t you at least recognize her and pat her on the head? Just say hi to her, it only takes a moment. She’s just trying herself hard to greet you.”

My husband was unphased.

He was not a dog lover.

It didn’t matter to Emma.

She loved him as much as she loved me and our three boys. We were the ones who showered her with attention. We were the ones who couldn’t get enough of it. We are the ones who gave her the rewards. We are the ones who talked to her. We were her real people.

But Emma was in love.

She loved my husband even if he passed by her elderly body every night.

The vet entered the office.

My heart couldn’t take it. Emma didn’t ask me anything, she had no problem at all. She loved me. She loved my children. I loved this man standing next to me.

I looked at my husband.

Not a tear was shed.

Don’t get me wrong – there was not a tear in his eye. There was not a single emotion flowing anywhere beneath his supposedly human surface.

He watched impatiently as Emma slept sweetly.

It brought tears to my eyes.

He acted as if he was casually attending a business meeting. A stranger could see a cute, cute animal sleeping and have a hard time containing his emotions.

It wasn’t normal. It wasn’t human.

Our sick and elderly dog was suffering and was mercifully put out of her pain. My husband didn’t feel anything. There was no trace of sadness in his body.

Did I understand that my husband was diagnosed with Narcissistic Personality Disorder a few years ago? Yes.

Did the girl who met her college sweetheart at the age of nineteen believe that? Yes and no.

I knew this was true, but the denial deep inside me wanted me to believe there was a real human being somewhere inside. I witnessed narcissistic cruelty but held to a certain level of what I believed to be deeper goodness.

I was fooled by the narcissist side. He was an undeniably cold and emotionally abusive man. But the charismatic wizard also seemed real.

But it wasn’t.

The narcissist’s lack of empathy means that only one person resides within him, despite his alternating personalities.

This man who watched a dog he had spent thirteen and a half years in love with leave this world was the true husband she married.

It was my college sweetheart who cheated on me.

He did not have the ability to feel any degree of pain except his own.

I thought back to the day he was diagnosed with Narcissistic Personality Disorder.

When my therapist told my husband he lacked empathy, he dismissed the idea.

We’ve been through several months of marriage counseling and have just answered a bunch of test questions. We met with the counselor to receive the results of those tests.

“Why should I care if a dog falls through the ice on the evening news?” My husband said.

It was a reference to one of the hundreds of questions he remembered answering. Our consultant explained that these tests were industry standards in the field of psychology. Of course, nearly eight months of counseling regarding this diagnosis was the culmination of more than just these tests.

I heard the diagnosis and it confirmed for me. What I was experiencing was real even if the majority of the world would never recognize my narcissistic husband’s fascination with party life.

I should have run for the door but I didn’t. I was in denial. I hoped for a miracle.

Emma and I loved a man who could not love us back.

This is what my narcissistic husband did when we lost our dog. He revealed himself.

It was too much to keep denying. It made me finally realize who I was married to.

It made me accept the diagnosis of Narcissistic Personality Disorder.

Trending now