The hardest part of living with a puppy isnt what most people assume.
Its not about walking them when its pouring down with rain, when theres a biting chill in the air, when youve barely slept or when your heart feels uneasy.
Its not about turning down holidays or invitations because youre told, Come along, but just not with the dog.
Its not the hair everywhere: on your sheets, on your clothes, and sometimes even in your food.
Nor is it the endless cleaning, mopping the floor over and over, knowing in half an hour it will look just the same.
Its not the vet bills, nor the constant worry that you might overlook something important.
Its not the loss of a bit of freedom, as your world now means us instead of me.
And it certainly isnt the fact that your heart no longer belongs to you alone
All of that is love.
All of that is living.
All of it was your choice.
But the hardest part comes softly like that dull ache in your bones when the weather shifts, or the cold in the street that doesnt sting at first but slowly seeps right in.
One day, it just dawns on you:
he cant, not the way he used to.
He tries but he cant.
He runs to greet you just as always but now, its changed.
His eyes are still yours, but theres a tiredness there now, a quiet message:
Im here, but each day it gets a little harder.
You remember how he was.
And you see him as he is now utterly yours, trusting you completely, right to the very end.
Hes always believed in you:
that youd be there,
that youd help him,
that you would keep him safe.
And you have.
But now, you cant save him from growing old.
The most painful part is knowing that, for you, he was comfort
but for him, you were EVERYTHING:
his whole world,
his whole sky,
his only hope.
And youre not ready.
Youre not ready to let go.
Youre not ready to watch the light fade from the one who taught you to love beyond bounds.
And then comes the silence.
A weighty silence.
The empty spot on your pillow.
The water bowl that no one will nuzzle again.
And your heart lying in pieces.
You still go out for a walk.
But now, you walk alone.
You catch yourself whispering to the empty air,
Come on, my little one
But if I could turn back time
Id choose him all over again.
Id choose every bit of weariness, every moment of sorrow, every selfless act.
Because that kind of love is real.
To have a dog is to invite a spark into your life.
A spark that will always warm you,
even long after hes gone.
Because a dog has just one purpose in this world:
to give you his heart.
