Letters from a dog... by John Katz 

 It is my time to say goodbye.  My legs are weakened, my sight is failing, smells are faint, I am wearing.  My spirit is fading and I have been called home and away from you.  I wish to be strong again, to roll in gross stuff, to eat greasy bones, to eat all the things you hated me to eat and to have my belly scratched for all time, to run through the fields and wood and to smell the stories of life and to raise my nose to the wind and see the world all over again.  

I am going home. I know I leave you in loneliness and pain. That is the way of people when they say goodbye. Dogs are different. We don’t have regrets or wish that we could alter the story of life.

Although I have been called away, I leave you with the memories of our life together.

I remember a cold winter’s night when you sang to me in the dark as the wind howled and snow drifted outside the window. I felt your loneliness and knew my work.

When you looked at me, and the corners of your mouth turned up, you smelled and looked different. Lighter, happier. That was my life, my work. Nothing more clearly defined my purpose. When you smiled, I knew why I was here.

I never tired of watching you, of being with you while you lived your life. I sat by your side, entering into the spirit of the moment. I supported your life, wherever it went, whatever you felt, whatever you did. I was your witness, your testament.

I remember my heart jumping out of my chest when you came home and called my name, or grabbed a ball, or took me outside, or fed me. I hope you know that I loved all of these things-whatever you chose to bring me and give me, whatever time you spend with me, I loved.

And I thank you.

I always knew where you were, even when you forgot me or couldn’t see me. You had no secrets from me. You showed me everything. We trusted each other.

I smelled and felt all of the worries in a human life, but I am different. Like other animals, I want only what I need. Your life is too complex for me to grasp. There are so many things in it that are meaningless to me.

I am so much simpler than you.

I love you, and I love all the people and animals in our home. And I love food and smelly things in the woods and balls and Frisbees and bones. There is not much more to me than that, and yet you loved me for that, and despite it.

By now, you must know that there is always a goodbye hovering in the shadows of a dog. We are never here for long, or for long enough. We were never meant to share all of your life, only to mark its passage. We come, and we go. We come when we are needed. We leave when it is time. Death is necessary. It defines life.

I will see you again.

I will watch over you.

I hope, in your grief and loneliness, that you will consider how sad it would have been had we not had this time together, not had the chance to give each other so much.

I do not mourn or grieve, but I will miss standing beside you, bound together on our walks through life, even as I know that there is a long line of others waiting to take my place and stand with you.

Thank you. It was nothing but a gift.

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