In the grand, echoing halls of Windsor Castle, where history whispers through every stone corridor, Prince William recently shared a moment of raw vulnerability that peeled back the polished veneer of royal life. Amid the laughter and light-hearted banter of a television interview, the Prince of Wales, accompanied by his lively cocker spaniel Orla, opened up about one of the quiet tragedies that marked his family’s journey through the isolation of the COVID-19 lockdown. It was a simple exchange, yet profoundly moving: William revealed that his wife, Catherine, Princess of Wales, and their three young children—Prince George, Princess Charlotte, and Prince Louis—were all by his side when their cherished dog, Lupo, took his final breath. “Yeah, we were all there, sadly,” William confided, his voice softening with the weight of memory. “It was very sad.”

This disclosure, made during an episode of Apple TV+’s The Reluctant Traveler hosted by Canadian comedian Eugene Levy, aired just days ago and has since resonated deeply with audiences worldwide. Levy, known for his deadpan humor in shows like Schitt’s Creek, found himself in uncharted territory, touring the royal residences with William while their furry companion bounded about, tail wagging furiously. The scene unfolded in the lush private gardens of Windsor, a sanctuary of manicured lawns and blooming flowerbeds that has long served as a retreat for the Wales family. As Levy pulled a dog treat from his pocket and offered it to Orla—who accepted it with eager enthusiasm—William chuckled, noting the pup’s pleading gaze: “This is going down well. You’re getting the look which is like, ‘Please feed me.'” The easy camaraderie quickly gave way to something more intimate when Levy, sensing the bond between man and dog, gently probed about Orla’s predecessor. “She’s actually the niece of our other dog, Lupo, who sadly we lost in lockdown,” William explained. When Levy asked if the family had been present for the heartbreaking event, the prince’s response hung in the air like a shared secret finally told.

For many, Lupo was more than a pet; he was a steadfast companion who wove himself into the fabric of the Wales family’s most formative years. Arriving as a wedding gift in 2011 from Catherine’s younger brother, James Middleton—a passionate dog breeder and advocate for mental health through canine companionship—Lupo entered their lives at a time of joyous transition. The couple had just returned from their honeymoon in the Seychelles, stepping into the spotlight as the Duke and Duchess of Cambridge. Lupo, a sleek black English cocker spaniel with soulful brown eyes and an irrepressible energy, quickly became the heartbeat of their young household. He was there for the sleepless nights of early parenthood, the chaotic mornings of school runs, and the serene afternoons spent in the Norfolk countryside at Anmer Hall, their beloved country retreat.

Photographs from those early days capture Lupo’s integral role with endearing clarity. One of the most iconic is Prince George’s official christening portrait from 2013, taken in the sun-dappled gardens of the Middleton family home in Bucklebury. There, the infant George, swaddled in lace, gazes serenely while Lupo lounges nearby, a picture of loyal contentment. The dog wasn’t just a background prop; he was family. Over the next nine years, Lupo trotted alongside William and Catherine at casual outings—polo matches on sun-soaked fields where the children cheered from the sidelines, and equestrian events where the air hummed with the thrill of hooves on grass. He even made cameo appearances in holiday cards, his floppy ears and wagging tail adding a touch of whimsy to the formal compositions. For George, then a toddler discovering the world; Charlotte, the spirited middle child; and Louis, the youngest with his boundless curiosity—these moments with Lupo were lessons in unconditional love, responsibility, and the simple joy of a game of fetch in the rain.

But as the world ground to a halt in early 2020, Lupo’s story took a somber turn. The pandemic confined the family to their homes, turning palaces into fortresses of enforced togetherness. Anmer Hall, with its wide-open spaces and cozy hearths, became their haven, a place where lessons were taught via video calls and bedtime stories stretched into the night. It was here, in the autumn of that fateful year, that Lupo’s health began to falter. At nine years old, the spaniel had lived a full life—filled with romps across royal estates and quiet cuddles on the sofa—but age and illness caught up with him. On November 22, 2020, William and Catherine shared the news on their Kensington Palace Instagram account, a post that stripped away the grandeur for a moment of unfiltered grief: “Very sadly last weekend our dear dog, Lupo, passed away. He has been at the heart of our family for the past nine years and we will miss him so much.” Signed simply “W & C,” the message was a rare personal touch from the couple, who typically maintain a measured distance in public communications.

At the time, the announcement struck a chord with pet owners everywhere, many of whom were grappling with their own losses amid the loneliness of lockdowns. Dogs, cats, and other companions had become lifelines, their presence a balm against the fear and uncertainty. For the Wales family, Lupo’s passing was especially poignant—a first brush with mortality for children still navigating the complexities of a world upended by virus. William’s recent revelation adds a layer of tenderness to that chapter, painting a picture of collective mourning. Imagine the scene: the family gathered in a softly lit room at Anmer Hall, perhaps with a fire crackling in the grate, as they said their goodbyes. George, at seven, might have stroked Lupo’s fur with solemn care; Charlotte, five, clutching a favorite toy as tears welled up; Louis, just two, sensing the hush in the air and reaching out with tiny hands. Catherine, ever the steady anchor, and William, drawing on his own childhood memories of loss, holding space for it all. In sharing this now, five years later, William not only honors Lupo but also underscores the universality of grief, reminding us that even in palaces, hearts break in the same quiet ways.

The void left by Lupo was palpable, but the family’s love for dogs runs deep, a thread pulled taut by James Middleton’s influence. Just weeks after Lupo’s death, in January 2021, Orla arrived—a bouncy cocker spaniel pup, Lupo’s niece from James’s litter, carrying forward the lineage of loyalty. Her name, revealed in a 2022 family snapshot shared by Catherine (an avid amateur photographer), evokes the Irish word for “golden princess,” a fitting moniker for the golden-haired bundle who quickly claimed her spot in the household. Orla has been a constant companion through triumphs and trials, from the family’s return to public duties post-lockdown to the more recent storms of health scares. This year, on William’s 43rd birthday in June, Kensington Palace delighted followers with a portrait of the prince surrounded by Orla and her four new puppies—a litter that symbolizes renewal amid adversity. The caption, penned by the children—”Happy birthday! Love C, G, C, L, Orla and the puppies!”—captured the unbridled joy of youth, a stark contrast to the sorrow of years past.

Orla’s presence in the Reluctant Traveler episode serves as a bridge between past and present, her playful antics lightening the mood as William navigates the interview’s deeper waters. The series, which follows Levy’s humorous misadventures in travel, takes an unexpected royal detour, with William serving as guide through Britain’s historic sites. Yet beneath the levity lies substance: William’s willingness to discuss not just Lupo, but the broader tapestry of family resilience. He speaks candidly about 2024 as “the hardest year I’ve ever had,” a year shadowed by Catherine’s cancer diagnosis in March and King Charles’s in February. Catherine’s journey to remission by January 2025 was a testament to her grace, and William’s pride in her—and in his father—shines through. “I’m so proud of my wife and my father for how they’ve handled all of last year,” he says, crediting open conversations as key to weathering the storm. The children, he adds, adapted with remarkable poise: “We’re a very open family, so we talk about things that bother us… It’s just important to be there for each other.”

This ethos of openness extends to everyday rhythms, where pets like Orla play a starring role. Dinners are sacred, phone-free zones of chatter; weekends buzz with George’s hockey practices, Charlotte’s netball and ballet sessions, and Louis’s trampoline obsessions—activities often capped with Orla as the exhausted spectator. William reflects on his own upbringing, shaped by the divorce of his parents when he was eight, vowing to shield his children from similar fractures. “I just want to do what’s best for my children,” he muses, emphasizing a “happy, healthy, stable home” above all. Windsor Castle, once a playground of splintery escapades for William and his cousins, now offers safer adventures for the next generation—carpeted floors and all.

In a broader sense, William’s story of Lupo humanizes the monarchy, bridging the chasm between crown and commoner. Pets have long been royal confidants—Queen Elizabeth II’s corgis were legendary for their cheeky nips and unwavering devotion—but for modern royals, they symbolize normalcy in an extraordinary existence. James Middleton, with his pack of six dogs (including cocker spaniels Zulu, Inka, Luna, and Nala, plus golden retrievers Mabel and Isla), has been instrumental in this tradition, using his platform to champion therapy dogs for mental health. His gift of Lupo wasn’t mere sentiment; it was an invitation to embrace vulnerability, a lesson the Wales family has carried forward.

As Orla bounds through Windsor’s gardens in the episode’s closing moments, Levy quips about her charm, and William smiles—a quiet acknowledgment of healing. The pain of Lupo’s loss lingers, but so does the love he inspired. In revealing that final gathering, William doesn’t just recount a memory; he affirms the bonds that endure. For George, Charlotte, and Louis, now 12, 10, and 7 respectively, that shared goodbye was a gentle initiation into life’s impermanence, softened by the warmth of togetherness. And for a watching world, it’s a reminder that behind the titles and tiaras, families—royal or otherwise—find solace in the paw prints left on their hearts.