This week I had a message from a lovely lady whose Mum adopted a little podenco X from me 13 years ago. Bobby was much loved by Jane, her daughter and sisters Claire and Deborah. It's thanks to them that Bobby had such a wonderful last few years, they made a lot of sacrifices to take him on after Jane, and they gave him the absolute best. After a wonderful life in a loving home he developed cancer and has sadly crossed the rainbow bridge. RIP Bobby.
R.M. Drake from the book ' Dog People'
“What’s the hardest part about having a dog?” they asked, their tone casual, like it was just another question.
The hardest part about loving a dog is knowing that one day, you’ll have to say goodbye. From the moment they come into your life, you know their time is limited, but you push that thought away, pretending the day will never come. You invest your heart in them, share the quiet mornings, the playful afternoons, the long walks that seem endless. They become more than just a part of your life—they become a part of you.
As they age, you start noticing the little signs. Maybe it’s the way they slow down, how their eyes seem to carry a deeper wisdom, or how they don’t run as fast as they used to. You try to savor every moment, knowing the time you have left is growing shorter. You start preparing yourself, but no amount of time can make that moment any easier.
I glanced at the worn leash hanging by the door, my chest tightening. “Letting them go,” I said quietly. They frowned a little, waiting for me to explain. “They come into your life like they were always meant to be there,” I said, trying to find the words. “They make everything better—simpler, brighter. And you think it’s always going to be that way. But it’s not. One day, they’re gone, and you’re left with all the space they used to fill.
When the day finally comes, it’s a heartbreak you can’t put into words. You say goodbye, knowing you’ll carry the weight of their absence forever. The house feels emptier, your routines shift, and you keep looking for them out of habit. But the love they left behind doesn’t disappear. It stays with you, woven into your heart, a constant reminder of the joy, loyalty, and comfort they brought. It’s a bittersweet truth—loving a dog means eventually saying goodbye, but their love leaves an imprint that lasts long after they’re gone.
They nodded, but I wasn’t sure they understood. “It’s not the messes they made or the routines you have to let go of,” I continued. “It’s the absence. You walk into the house, and it feels... wrong. The quiet is heavier. The mornings don’t feel the same without them nudging you awake.”
“So why do it?” they asked, their voice softer this time.
I sighed, glancing down at my hands. “Because the love they give you is worth every bit of the heartache. They teach you how to love without holding back, even when you know it’s going to hurt in the end. And you keep choosing that love because you know it’s one of the best things you’ll ever feel.”
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