Barbra Streisand’s Quietest Heartbreak: Saying Goodbye to Miss Scarlet, the Dog Who Knew Every Note

On a golden November afternoon in Malibu, Barbra Streisand closed the piano lid, turned off the lights, and faced the moment every pet owner dreads: telling her 14-year-old Coton de Tuléar, Miss Scarlet, that it was time to let go.

Miss Scarlet—the tiny white shadow who sat beneath the piano during every vocal warm-up, who curled beside Barbra while she wrote her memoir at 3 a.m., who once photobombed a Zoom with Spielberg—had been fading for weeks.
Kidney failure had stolen her bounce, her bark, and finally her appetite. On November 22, 2025, Barbra carried her to the ocean-view terrace where they’d watched countless sunsets, wrapped her in the same cashmere blanket used on the Yentl set, and whispered the goodbye she’d rehearsed in her head for days: “You’ve been with me through every note, every doubt, every triumph. I’ll never forget you.” Then she sang the opening phrase of “Evergreen,” soft as a lullaby, while the vet gently helped Scarlet cross the rainbow bridge.

The house fell eerily silent—no click of tiny nails on hardwood, no hopeful stare at the treat jar.
Barbra left for a short trip to Palm Springs, believing closure was complete. But two days later, her housekeeper sent a heartbreaking video: Sammie, Scarlet’s inseparable sister (adopted together in 2011), had stopped eating. She paced the music room, sat by Barbra’s empty piano bench, and stared at the door as if waiting for the familiar jingle of Scarlet’s collar. When Barbra saw the footage, she canceled everything and drove home through the night.

She found Sammie curled on Scarlet’s favorite pillow, eyes dull.
Without a word, Barbra knelt, gathered the grieving dog into her arms, and began humming “People” the way she used to when both pups were puppies. Sammie’s ears perked. Barbra whispered, “We’ll be alright, baby girl. She’s still here—in every song.” For the next week, she barely left Sammie’s side: sleeping on the floor, hand-feeding bits of boiled chicken, playing old recordings of herself singing so the room never felt empty. Slowly, miraculously, Sammie began to eat again.

Fans who learned the story through a single, tear-stained Instagram post from Barbra herself flooded the comments with photos of their own rainbow-bridge babies.
#ForMissScarlet trended worldwide, with 4.2 million posts of white dogs, red ribbons, and handwritten notes quoting “Evergreen.” Bette Midler wrote, “Only you could sing a dog back to life, Babs.” James Brolin shared a never-before-seen Polaroid of Barbra asleep on the studio couch with both dogs tucked under her arms like living scarves.

Scarlet’s ashes now rest in a small rosewood box on the piano, next to a framed photo of the three of them on the beach.
Every morning, Barbra opens the lid, touches the box, and sings one quiet verse before starting her day. Sammie sits beneath the piano again—older, slower, but present—as if keeping a promise to her sister.

Barbra Streisand didn’t just lose a dog.
She kept a family together with the same voice that once moved nations.

Because some loves don’t need a stage.
They just need a heartbeat beside yours.
And in Malibu, two are still beating—
one human, one canine,
both forever changed by the little white dog who knew every note.

Rest easy, Miss Scarlet.
The music plays on because of you.