Our Pets, our Lives
Losing a pet isn’t easy. You grow up with them, they’re an integral part of your life. They are there through good and bad, changes and self-discovery. I still miss my dog, Chloe. I remember when I first got her, took her for a walk in the rain. Chloe was there for me when no one else was. She would listen to me as I told her about hating high school, about liking boys. She ran all those miles with me when I was going through my eating disorder. And I’d hear her tail thumping against my bed when a thunderstorm raged.
I remember a dream I had, when she passed, that she was running freely across a green field, as she hadn’t been able to run much in her last days. I took it to mean she was free of the burden, and that she would always be with me. I know Alto and Duke are with you still, in spirit. They’re a part of you, and you are a part of them.
My dog looked at me, the last time I saw her alive. We shared a moment, and I told her it was okay if she had to go. And she did. Dogs are wonderful animals, so tied to humans that one can’t help but think that they understand much more than they can always communicate.
Your moment with Alto, though it was stressful, you gave him peace, and permission to let go. And I think he thanked you for that grace. As old and blind and incontinent as he was, you were still his family, and he had to make sure you would be okay. And you will be.
You will be.