The hardest part about living with a puppy isnt what most people imagine.
It isnt taking him out for a walk when the rain is pouring down, or when the wind cuts through you on those bitingly cold mornings, when youve barely slept, or when your heart is heavy with worry.
It isnt turning down trips or dinner invitations because you get told, Come along, but dont bring him.
Its not the hair that finds its way onto your sheets, your clothes, and somehow even onto your supper.
It isnt endlessly wiping muddy paws off the kitchen floor, knowing full well that in half an hour youll be doing it all over again.
It isnt the vet bills, nor that constant, gnawing fear that you might miss something important.
Its not the fact that youve forfeited a bit of your freedom, because freedom is us now.
And it isnt the simple truth that your heart is no longer yours alone…
All of that is love.
All of it is life.
All of it was your own choice.
The hardest part creeps in slowlylike the ache that settles into your bones when the weather turns. Like that damp chill on an English street: barely noticeable at first, but it seeps in, all the same.
One day you simply realise:
He cant quite manage like he used to.
He tries his best but his best is different now.
He hurries to greet you, as always only, now it isnt quite the same.
His eyes are still fixed to yours, but theres a weary glow there nowa gentle light that says,
Im here, but each day it grows just a little bit harder.
You remember how he was.
And you see him nowstill trusting you completely, still wholly yours.
He has always had faith in you:
That youd stand by him,
That youd help him,
That youd keep him safe.
And you have.
But now, you cant save him from growing old.
The hardest thing of all is knowing thatfor you, he was comfort.
But for him, you were everything:
His whole world,
His sky,
His only hope.
And you arent ready.
Youre not ready to let him go.
Youre not ready to watch the light fade from the one who taught you to love without limits.
Then comes the hush.
A heavy quiet.
The empty space on the pillow.
That bowl no one will ever lick clean again.
And your heartbroken to pieces.
You step outside once more.
But this time, without him.
You catch yourself whispering to the air,
Come on, my little one
And if I had the chance to turn back time
Id choose him all over again.
Id take it allthe tiredness, the ache, the giving of myself.
Because that love is real.
Having a dog means lighting a fire in your life.
A fire that can warm you always,
Even after hes gone.
Because a dog has just one purpose in this world:
To give you his heart.
