Good Boy 2025 Ending Explained: How Does the Dog Die?

Good Boy 2025 Ending Explained: The Halloween 2025 season has started with one of the horror movies’ most emotionally manipulative in a long time: Good Boy, by debut screenwriter and director Ben Leonberg, is a haunted house story told from the perspective of an incredibly cute and increasingly scared retriever named Indy, who discovers that strange things are happening and that his owner is too worried to notice. Indy is so adorable that, since the trailer was released, bloodthirsty horror fans have been alerted to the possibility of the dog dying, like many pets in the genre. Indy is played by Indy, Leonberg’s dog. In a talk we had with Leonberg after the screening of the film, he revealed to us the methods he used to achieve one of the most surprising animal interpretations in cinema, his approach to mortality through the film, and yes, he told us something about Indy’s destiny. There are some spoilers, but we will let you know again later in case you want to know more about Good Boy without spoiling what is important.

The little horror movie Good Boy hit the mark thanks to a premise that was as simple as it was heartbreaking: what would happen if a dog had to face the death of its owner? Directed by Ben Leonberg and starring his real dog, a Nova Scotia Duck Tolling Retriever named Indy, the film tells a story of mourning and faithfulness from the perspective of an animal unable to fully understand death, but acutely aware of grief. His final, cryptic but very powerful, deserves more in-depth reflection. Good Boy (2025), directed by Ben Leonberg, is presented as an unusual horror story: everything is told from the perspective of Indy, a dog who accompanies his owner, Todd, in the remote house inherited from his deceased grandfather. Coexistence turns into a nightmare with the appearance of a dark entity that moves through the shadows and seems to claim Todd. However, beneath its supernatural surface, the film is actually a tale of the illness, loss, and unwavering fidelity of an animal to its person.

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Good Boy 2025 Ending Explained: How Does the Dog Die? Why Did Todd Have To Die?

From the beginning, the film hints that Todd is terminally ill: the attacks, doctor visits, and progressive deterioration point to an inevitable evil. The supposed “possession” of the entity functions as a metaphor for the ailment that had already taken the grandfather. The key scene comes when the monster drags Todd into the basement. Indy saves him for a moment, but Todd understands that there is no escape: he tells his dog that he can’t follow him. With that farewell, Todd accepts his fate and gives Indy the strength to survive without him. Death is not presented as a defeat, but as the natural outcome of a process that Indy, in his limited animal understanding, interprets as a fight against an evil being.

The Meaning of the Entity

The film never gives a definitive explanation about the creature. It can be interpreted as a supernatural entity that has stalked the family for generations, or as the symbolic incarnation of death itself. In either reading, his role is not to harm Indy, but to separate the dog from its owner. The most revealing detail is that the entity never hurts the animal. The real danger for Indy would be refusing to move on, as happened with the previous dog, who died waiting. Thus, horror merges with metaphor: the shadow is not a demon, but the reminder that no bond can stop death.

Todd and the Disease: The Horror That Doesn’t Need Ghosts

Over the course of the film, Todd appears increasingly ill. His symptoms are never clearly explained, and a diagnosis is never made. But that’s part of the film project: the horror is not only in the supernatural presence that hovers in the house, but in the slow, relentless deterioration of a loved one. Indy, with the instinctive sensitivity of a dog, is the first to understand that something is wrong. He sees shadows that human beings do not see, and he feels presences that escape our senses. But above all, he perceives that his master is changing; he is shutting down. Yet, like any “good dog”, he never abandons him. The highlight comes when Todd, now consumed by a dark force, is dragged into the basement. This is where the most painful scene of the film takes place: that of the greeting.

The Basement as a Symbol of the Border Between Life and Death?

The descent into the basement is not just a physical event, but a symbolic passage. In many mythological and religious narratives, the “low” represents the afterlife, the unconscious, or death. When Todd is dragged down, Indy follows, tempted to the last to bring him back, as if a gesture of affection were enough to save him. But Todd, now covered in a black slime that seems to have devoured him, tells him in a broken voice: “You can’t save me”.

It’s a phrase that encompasses everything the film wants to convey: even the purest and most unconditional love has its limits and unwillingness. We cannot prevent death, even if we are willing to follow it to the end. Yet, even in that tragic moment, Todd recognizes the value of Indy’s presence, calling him “a good dog”. It is a poignant recognition, but also a liberating one: it is permission to let it go.

Indy in the Face of Mourning: Stay or Leave?

After the master’s death, Indy remains alone in the basement, the doors closed, the light off. It is a very strong image: the dog that gave its all is now trapped, emotionally and physically. But this is precisely where the film changes tone. The door opens: it is Vera, Todd’s sister, who has come looking for him.

Narratively, this is when Indy has a choice. Remain in the darkness of mourning – as did grandfather’s dog Bandit, who died waiting for his master – or climb the stairs, towards the light, towards another possibility of love and connection. Director Ben Leonberg calls it a “crossroads”, and it really is. In the next scene, in the credits, we see Indy dating Vera: she chose to live. It’s not a given decision. Dogs, like many people, remain faithful even when their loved ones are gone. But Good Boy offers an alternative: stay tied to death or open up to a new bond.

An Ending that Seems Sad, But Talks About Hope

For many viewers, Todd’s death can appear as a blow to the heart. But for its authors, the ending is not sad at all. Leonberg and screenwriter Alex Cannon explain that, while starting from an emotionally devastating idea, Good Boy ends on a note of hope.

Indy suffered, witnessed death, was exposed to the unknown and the supernatural, but chose the light. He chose to live, to accept a new emotional figure next to him. In a narrative world where animals often serve to teach humans the meaning of death, Good Boy turns the perspective on its head: here it is the animal that has to learn to let go. It is no coincidence that Bandit, the grandfather’s dog, died in the same place. He had stayed there, waiting for someone who would never return. Indy, on the other hand, breaks the cycle: he accepts that love must not end in death.

Ghosts or Illness? Ambiguity as a Horror Figure

Another central question is whether the house is really haunted? Is there really an evil entity? Or are all Indy sees just the materialization of Todd’s illness? The director doesn’t give a clear answer, and he does well. Like in The Shining, where the line between possession and madness remains purposely vague, Good Boy leaves it up to the viewer to decide. Horror works best when it remains ambiguous, when it creeps between reality and perception. And in this case, the perception is that of a dog, a being that lives on instinct, not rationality. Perhaps Indy perceives death as a real entity because he does not have the words or concepts to describe it. Maybe the house is really cursed. But either way, what matters is how Indy reacts: with pain, but also with surprising inner strength.

Good Boy 2025 Spoilers (Image Credit: What’s Wrong With Your Dog?)

Good Boy’s Lesson: Loyalty Must Not Mean Imprisonment

In the end, Good Boy isn’t just a horror movie. It is a profoundly human story – despite being told by a dog. He talks about loyalty, but also about freedom. Of suffering, but also of resilience. Of death, but above all of the possibility of starting again. The most powerful message of the ending is that love must not become a cage. Remaining forever in a place of pain is not a gesture of loyalty, but a condemnation. Indy understands this, and in doing so, he teaches us something that goes beyond the horror genre: even those who suffer deeply have the right to a second chance. Even those who have lost everything can still choose the light.

Good Boy: Ending Explained According to the Director

How could you do this? What a cruel concept: putting a dog in danger for an hour of scares.

I think it shows how well horror movies have alerted audiences to be alerted. Whether you watch a lot of horror movies or not, I have the feeling that we are all aware of that trope: a family buys a house, the price is too good to be true, the dog doesn’t want to go into the basement, or barks at the creepy neighbor… And most of the time, the dog doesn’t get past the first act. But we tell the story of Indy in its entirety, and the existence of doestedogdie.com demonstrates the power of animals in cinema.

I Don’t Think I’ve Ever Seen This Kind of Anxiety About a Movie Release: As Soon As the Poster Came Out, It Was A Trending Topic, People Were Asking If Indy Died Or Not…

“But does the dog die?”. And then, “Hey, do you remember the series?” Guts, the cowardly dog?”

Do You Remember Guts?

Yes, of course. I don’t think I had it in mind when I was making the movie, but I’ve thought about it. It’s a series that I loved. I watched it as a child. So maybe it was something subtle, one of those more psychological influences.

So, How Did You Come Up With This Idea?

To be as specific as possible, I remember watching Poltergeist for the millionth time, and that movie starts with a golden retriever wandering around a house, with the clear idea that something paranormal is about to happen before humans realize it. And I thought someone should tell a story completely from that dog’s point of view.

And then I started writing it, developing that trope. Everyone has probably wondered why their dog barks into nothingness in the middle of the night or stares into an empty corner. Their senses are much more powerful than ours, although their understanding is a little simpler. So I think we use a deeply shared idea as primary DNA. And then it was a challenge figuring out how to make the movie. How to tell the story with a character who has a different type of intellect and can’t speak?

It’s a Good Script That’s Based on Finding the Right Dog for The Job. Did You Write It With Indy in Mind?

I didn’t set out to make the movie with my dog or catch Indy thinking about making him a star. While I was writing the film and thinking about how to use point of view to develop a narrative, I started doing little tests with Indy, because he was my dog. I would shoot in my apartment or in the backyard to find out things like: “How do you put a camera in front of a character’s face and control their gaze when they don’t know they’re in a movie?”.

There are dogs trained to act, but I wanted to avoid the appearance of an animal that is clearly listening to a trainer off-camera. So deciding that we were going to work with Indy was a very progressive decision, and then inventing that new way of making a movie entirely around him. We have not trained him to act. My wife and I learned to reorganize our lives and make the film around him. We live in the house from the movie.

Just one hour a day, give or take, for three years. I think it took more than 400 days of filming to get all the footage. And I want to insist on this: he has no idea he’s in a movie. It took a lot of problem-solving skills and creativity, most of which are silly and not scary at all, to get what you see in the final performance.

He Doesn’t Seem to Be Responding to Any Coach’s Signals From Outside the Frame. How Did You Get That?

We lived in Indy’s house, my wife is the producer, I directed it and co-wrote it with another screenwriter… I also shot it, I did all the carpentry, electricity, lighting, and photography, so since there were so few of us –two more Indy–, the set was very quiet, and it seemed like normal life to him. Obviously, we were working very slowly, but that allowed us to get some really genuine moments and reactions. I put myself in Todd’s shoes. I would turn the camera around, light up, and stand in front of Indy pretending to be Todd.

Afterwards, an actor replaced the voices, and when Indy gets between my legs, when I get out of bed in the morning, we can capture that love and affection that is seen between the two characters. It’s real because it’s really happening. That’s how Indy and I start the day every morning. There were times when we were able to capture real, genuine things because the house is Indy’s house and we are his real family, but other times, it’s the realization that creates the performance. To explain a little more what I mean, there are a lot of scenes where Indy walks into a space, hears a strange noise, or notices something and stands still, and then we have those shots from that point of view that move forward. The story.

By Malalai Bindemann

And to get scenes where it seems like Indy is angry or scared, what actually happens is that Indy is positioned in such a way, staring at the camera or off the screen, and my wife and I are behind the camera, saying things like “ham sandwich”, which means nothing to him, to make him tilt his head slightly. And since he is very intelligent and very focused, he tries to understand what we want. If you take that material, edit it, illuminate it correctly, add the sinister music, the sound design, remove the real voices, suggest to the audience through the power of cinema that this is scary, the audience does the numbers: the dog is scared. But the dog is just trying to understand. The narration scares you, and the audience projects it onto the character. That effect is the driving force behind much of the film.

Good Boy 2025 (Image Credit: What’s Wrong With Your Dog?)

He Doesn’t Seem To Be Responding To Any Coach’s Signals from Outside The Frame. How Did You Get That?

Was there any Specific Moment, While You Were Doing Those Shots, Where Everything Fell into Place and you thought, ‘Okay, We Can Really Make This Movie’?

Yes, without a doubt. One of the shorts we made was included in the final film. It’s one of the best scares. I don’t know if I want to spoil too much, but there’s a scene where he gets under the bed, which is very specific to dogs, because it’s a space that humans can’t easily enter. I can attest to that, because I had to get under the bed to film, but we shot that sequence with a jump scare very funny as an independent short film, and it won a major online short film competition, Indy was nominated for best actor, and people gave it such a good reception, and we had created that very specific way of working with him, that in the end we said: ” Okay, he’s a special dog. We’ve found a method to make this work. We have to turn it into a feature film.

What I like most about the movie, and one thing that really accentuates Indy’s performance, is that after a while, you internalize those ideas of what human mortality is like for a loving pet that can only understand so far. Because I think when people see the poster and read the slogan, they think it might be something more typical Scooby-Doo, but it’s actually a very moving and very human story.

I love how you put it. We talk about ghost stories and haunted house movies, and ghost stories are often about mortality, death anxiety, and death itself, and how to tell that kind of story from a dog’s perspective. When we set out to find out what this narrative was, we discovered that it is the inverse of many people’s experience with death. That is, many people experience death. They lose a pet when they are children, because they do not live as long as we do.

And the film reverses that scenario. The specter of death, the dark forces we glimpse, we tried to make them specific to a dog. We don’t know what a dog actually sees, but the standard figure of the Grim Reaper is a cloak, a skeleton, and a scythe, which is a symbolic representation of what we fear, but that means nothing to a dog. Therefore, we must give a twist to the ghostly imagery.

After the second mention of fox traps in the woods, I thought something really bad might happen to Indy with one of them, so I was relieved when it wasn’t something as horrible as an animal trap.

Yes, for practical purposes, that would not be possible. That was probably one of the funniest scenes to shoot for Indy. In the action scenes, there are a lot of very fast cuts, and a lot of things are invested in post-production to create the illusion of strength and tension. In the scene where the fox trap appears, you’ll see him turn on his back, and I’m off camera, scratching his butt, and he rolls around, and if you reverse it and record it with a high shutter speed… I don’t have enough words to praise the sound designers who make it all feel the way it does in the film, but that was perhaps a good example that the reality of filming is much simpler than what is seen in the film. Final product.

I’m curious about your references. Some of the things about Todd and his grandfather, and what I think you’re implying is really going on, reminded me of Relic, and that idea of using horror to tell a story about genealogy and a family’s link to an illness.

Yes, absolutely. Relic it’s a great movie, and there are certain similarities. One character even suggests what you’re saying: a dog acting strange because someone is experiencing a health problem. How would they really live it? An invisible necrotic force like cancer or a terminal illness? Dogs can smell those things. That’s actually true, that some hospitals use dogs to detect all kinds of things: high blood pressure, cancer… There’s a pretty big list. But we don’t really know what they detect. I’m not suggesting it’s supernatural, but to them, an invisible necrotic force, what’s the difference between that and a malevolent spirit? The film plays with that ambiguity.

I also thought it was a cool way to twist the knife: in some sequences, Todd is either the antagonist or the animus, which only increases Indy’s confusion and panic.

I love the way you use the expression “twist the knife”. We saw it that way, too. And I think it’s because of the psychology of the human character. Of course, I have never been through something like this, but we can all relate to seeking comfort in our pets. Life is hard, and dogs don’t understand everything. They love us unconditionally, but they don’t have the same understanding as us. So there are great opportunities for dramatic irony, where the audience begins to understand where this is going. And he is so innocent, he just wants to be close to his owner and love him. It’s like a code of tricks using a dog.

A Cheat Code that is Also Very Difficult to Implement

Yes, realization is difficult. I feel like you get that code of tricks once you get the interpretation, but dramatically, it’s very easy to sympathize with a dog. If you read screenplay books, you’re often advised that in the first ten pages or so of your script, you do something to make the audience love your main character. In our case, just point the camera at it. The close-up of the film is of Indy sleeping, and the audience often says, “Oooohh”. It is an advantage over the entire challenge of physical production.

When you wrote this story, did you start thinking about those themes and then find the narrative resources? Or was it the other way around?

It was a collision of elements. I think the impetus to start shooting the movie revolved around the idea that there is always one dog that knows more than the others. And as we wrote the story and thought about the classic ingredients of a haunted house movie, the question was always: How do you put this into the narrative of a dog that can’t talk, that has the limitations of a real dog, that can’t play basketball, who has no voice?

How can a dog move forward in the story and understand what is happening? And we achieve this by anchoring things in their senses and remembering what you just mentioned, that there is a potentially real explanation for what is happening. I think most people will go into the story in a supernatural way, but the suggestion that maybe what Indy perceives is real really sheds light on the topic for me and my co-writer, Alex Cannon.

Now yes: spoilers about the end of Good Boy

Speaking of the ending, did you ever consider Indy dying?

No. No. I may be crazy enough to spend three years making a movie with a dog, but we never considered that Indy wouldn’t survive. I think it would be a dark movie that wouldn’t interest me. As heartbreaking as it is –and certainly an emotional story, we wanted to make something that still had some of the elements of a horror movie that was like a haunted house attraction. We love scares. And making a film like this, with the ups and downs of a roller coaster, but with an ending so dark, so emotionally heartbreaking, never seemed the most appropriate to us. We always wanted Indy to survive because that’s also the right resolution of his hero’s journey.

I think that although his life is not in danger, there is real tension in that final shot. I don’t know if that was the intention, but it’s almost like Todd’s spirit or whatever was in the basement, making him want to stay there. So there’s a time when you’re relieved to have him go upstairs and leave the house.

Of course. The way I see it is that the movie ends with a very important decision. Throughout the film, from Indy’s point of view, this is not a horror movie, but a love story. He loves Todd. We understand it immediately at the beginning of the film. She just wants to be with him. The worst moments of the film for Indy emotionally are when he is separated from Todd. When Todd leaves during the day, he gets angry.

When he’s chained outside and Todd is in one of his worst moments, as we get closer to the end, it’s the worst thing that can happen to Indy. Obviously, in the film’s ending, Todd does not survive, and there is a choice in the final moment in which Indy can stay in the dark with Todd’s ghost, or simply his memory, or he can come out and choose life and leave with his family and Todd’s sister, and obviously chooses to move on. Therefore, we wanted to end that arc with a final decision that Indy must make. And it was actually a lot of fun, one of the easiest things to shoot.

Do you think you will continue doing terror?

There are more things I want to tell in the horror genre. I really want to work in horror, not just with dogs. I’m looking forward to working with an actor who is excited that we’re making a movie together. But even within haunted house movies and ghost stories, there’s so much more I could tell, both with and without dogs.

I know it took you about three years to make this movie, but how do you think it fits into the genre?

I think it’s very unique. I think of it as a horror movie and also as a dog movie. I consumed a lot of dog movies and information about how dog movies were made when I was shooting and preparing this story.

I love Air Bud, and I think it is an extraordinary film. I was looking for the best dog performances. My gold standard is the thing. As a viewer, we know that something is wrong with that dog, and there are scenes where he is guarding the place while people sleep, wandering around looking for something… And it still amazes me how they achieved it, because it’s so complicated… The dog shows us his tricks, and that’s a really impressive thing to achieve.

Apparently, a lot had to do with the fact that he was a hybrid of a dog and a wolf and had a very intense look. We had it very much in mind, and I watched those scenes over and over again, thinking about how John Carpenter was able to pull it off. I hope Good Boy enters the pantheon of great canine performances. Indy seems amazing to me, but he’s my own dog, so it’s logical. And then in the broader horror world, I think there’s another interesting title playing with the idea of perspective. Presence came out last year, and it was a haunted house movie told from the ghost’s perspective.

Anatomy of a Fall is Another Milestone of Dog Cinema.

Messi is great. We joke about it. What movie could we make with the Messi-Indy tandem? I haven’t found out yet, and I haven’t spoken to Messi’s team, but I would like that collaboration.

Have you sat down to watch the film at festivals to gauge the public’s reaction?

The curious thing about seeing it on the big screen is that it greatly distorts Indy’s real size. I don’t know if you can tell, but he is a 15-kilo dog. And in the movie, it comes out so big that people think it’s like a huge dog, but it’s small, and that works better in the movie. You want the hero to be small and try to overcome overwhelming obstacles.

I’m curious to know what Indy is like in real life, and what qualities he has that you would think would work well on screen.

He loves having an occupation. Some pets, such as cattle dogs, want to work. He’s a retriever, so I think his dream job is collecting tennis balls. But apart from that, he is very smart and is capable of learning many orders, although we didn’t make the film that way. Rather, we gave him instructions and asked him to solve problems.

And a big part of the film is the gears that we see turning through his eyes, because he has a very thoughtful look from which we build the entire story. What you’re trying to understand is what exactly we want you to do. Sometimes we give him an order that he has never heard before, and he discovers it in real time. And the result is that you see a dog solving problems. If you listened to what was recorded on set, it would be a surreal comedy, because my wife and I made silly noises, we talked to him, we told him he was a good boy, to stay because he was in the perfect place, which he rarely did… So it was a lot of trial and error. He is intelligent, intense, and highly motivated, which can be challenging, but you have to find something he can focus his energy on. And making a movie was perfect.

And the Decision to never show Todd’s face, what’s behind it?

It is a combination of a practical and creative choice. Creatively, we wanted the film to be so focused on Indy that the camera is literally on par. Again, he is small. His line of sight is about 10 centimeters from the ground. That implies that human bodies have to be cut off. It’s almost like Muppet Babies or Charlie Brown, where humans are almost always off-camera. That also gave us the opportunity for my wife and me to perform with Indy as stuntmen.

The team was very small, so we had no more distractions on set. And then Shane Jensen, who plays Todd, and Arielle Friedman, who plays Vera, provided vocals. So, yes, it was a unique challenge, but the most important thing was what Indy could use for his performance.

This article has been published on GQ.com.