Written by Nitzan, Dor’s Sister:

Dor wasn’t just my big brother, he was my anchor, my best friend. We were only two years apart, and now I’ve reached the age he’ll never see.

Dor and his girlfriend, Savyon, were killed together that morning near Gaza. He was 30. The world lost two beautiful souls, and our family was shattered. I remember the days of uncertainty, the endless waiting for news, and the disbelief when it finally came. There are no words to describe what it’s like to lose someone in such a horrible way.

Dor had suffered for years from the invisible wounds of his IDF service. He battled PTSD, and for a long time, he didn’t even have a name for it. After waiting for two long years, he finally received his service dog, Doris, from the Israel Guide Dog Center. He told us it was like light returning to his life. She calmed his nightmares, his panic, his pain. He said she made him feel safe again.

Doris had become part of Dor and Savyon’s little family. There was something almost mystical about their partnership. Doris’s name sounded like Dor’s, and their birthdays were just one day apart. Their bond was visible to everyone, and Dor’s healing had become unmistakable.

On October 6th, Dor and Savyon decided to attend a party near the Nova festival. They planned to stay only a short while, leaving Doris at home. When the sirens began, they had no idea terrorists had already infiltrated the area. They were among the first to leave, intending to drive north. They pulled over near a protected space at the side of the road, and at 7:08 a.m., their car came under fire. They were killed holding hands.

The following days were desperate as our family searched for Dor and Savyon. At the same time, their friends broke into their apartment to rescue Doris, who had been waiting for them to return home.

After Doris was returned to the Center, the team offered us a choice—to let Doris help another veteran or to bring her home with us. At first, I hesitated. Dor had waited years for her; it felt wrong to keep her just for comfort. But as I spoke with the Center’s psychotherapist, I realized I, too, was living with trauma—loss, displacement, and unbearable grief.

Bringing Doris home was like bringing a piece of Dor back to us. In those first months, when the ache felt unbearable, I would hold her close and hear her breathing—and for a moment, it felt like Dor was there. My daughter, who was just nine months old then, has grown up with Doris always beside her.

Now, two years later, Doris is family. She’s our comfort, our reminder, our living connection to Dor. Through her, I feel his warmth, his strength, his love. She’s more than a dog—she’s the heartbeat that keeps Dor and Savyon’s memory alive.