The Chapter They Give Us

There is something incredibly unfair about loving a dog. We give them our whole hearts, knowing from the very beginning that someday, somehow, we will have to say goodbye. We know they don't live long enough. But somehow, we don't really "feel" it until we begin to see the changes. The slower walks. The longer naps. The hesitation before jumping up. The medications lined up on the counter. The diagnoses we never wanted to hear. And sometimes, the hardest part isn't knowing that the end will eventually come. It's watching the dog you love slowly change while trying to figure out how to help them, how to support them, and how to know when they are telling you that they have had enough. This is anticipatory grief. It is grieving someone who is still right there beside you.

A client recently said something that stopped me in my tracks: "We get a book, and our dogs get just one chapter in that book.” I can't stop thinking about that. Our lives are long stories filled with chapters. Careers. Families. Friendships. Adventures. Losses. Changes. New beginnings. And our dogs? They get one chapter. Sometimes the chapter is long. Sometimes it is heartbreakingly short. Sometimes chronic illness changes the story before we are ready. But regardless of how many pages they get, we have the opportunity to make their chapter matter. Maybe making it special doesn't mean doing more. Maybe it means doing less. Letting them sniff as long as they want. Carrying them when their legs can't go as far. Giving them their favorite food. Taking the ridiculous number of pictures. Laughing at the things that only the two of you understand. Sometimes, making their chapter special means simply being present. Because when we know time is limited, the ordinary becomes extraordinary. One day, those ordinary moments will be the moments we would give anything to have back. I think that's why anticipatory grief hurts so much. We aren't just grieving the future loss of our dog. We are grieving all the future moments we thought we would have. We cannot change how long the chapter is. We cannot rewrite the ending. But we can make sure that while they are here, they know—every single day—how deeply they are loved. Because someday, when we close that chapter, it will hurt. It will hurt because they mattered. It will hurt because they were woven into the fabric of our lives. And it will hurt because loving them was worth it. They may only get one chapter in our book, but we can make their chapter extra special.