I thought about Lucas last night.
I’m not sure what triggered it, but–seemingly suddenly, seemingly out of nowhere–my fingers ached to dig into the thick, fluffy fur around his neck. And, oh, it hit hard when I realized I couldn’t quite remember how it felt anymore.
“Grief changes shape, but it never ends. […] People have a misconception that you can deal with it and say, ‘It’s gone, and I’m better.’ They’re wrong.” — Keanu Reeves
And, I suppose, grief is what triggered my thoughts about Lucas, though it came from an unexpected place:
Ease.
Joy.
Calm.
I’ve been feeling so grateful for Penny lately. She is one of the extremely rare go-anywhere, do-anything dogs. She loves walking the aisles at Lowe’s on a busy Saturday. She adores long walks in the woods and never tries to chase a squirrel or harass another dog off the trail. She waits patiently while strangers ask a million questions about her disabilities, and she even likes riding in the car to pick up the girls from school.
Penny isn’t perfect. She’s super quirky (have you been following along with her Whimzees weirdness on Insta?) and she’s recently discovered how much she enjoys chewing up Barbies and dollhouse accessories.
But she’s easy.
She’s joyful.
She’s full of a calm, quiet energy that accepts things as they are.
I can walk her without a constant sense of dread and hypervigilance. I can leave the curtains open and know she won’t lose her mind barking out the window at… anything. I can trust her to meet people and animals without planning an escape route.
I feel such gratitude for all those traits every single day. It’s all so easy with her, but that makes it hard. The ease comes with pangs of guilt that probably stem from grief.
It’s not that I didn’t love Lucas or Cooper this much. Of course I did. And, also, they were so hard. They were so often dysregulated, and they required so much effort from me all the time. Physical, emotional, mental effort. All the while, Penny is just easy. And then I feel bad for being grateful for this ease because it feels like I’m diminishing or tarnishing the boys’ memory.
Oh, how I love Penny. She’s a miraculous puppy. I feel bad being grateful for the characteristics that make her different because it makes me feel guilty for implying that she’s “better,” when that’s not the case.
Anyway, I’ve been thinking in circles on this and so wanted to share. I have a small section in one chapter of my forthcoming book, FOR THE LOVE OF DOG, where I explore grief and the science of how our dogs grieve.
But I’d love to know in the comments below: Does anyone else fall into these weird traps? I’m not alone in this, am I?
If you enjoyed this post, you’ll probably enjoy my forthcoming book, For the Love of Dog, from Regalo Press in 2025. It’s chock full of the latest research in canine cognition combined with stories of my dogs to bring the data to life. To stay up-to-date on the latest with my publication news, please join the mailing list or follow along on Instagram. I’d love to connect with you more!
Yes. I understand. I find that the different natures of our dogs don’t lessen but change our love for them.
My current little guy, Snoopy, is SO challenging anywhere outside of the apartment. In fact, I’m taking him for his annual sedated vet visit tomorrow because he’s too terrified to be examined any other way–even after nearly 2 years of work. But the challenge also fills me with a deep love for him. And amazing pride whenever he makes a little bit of progress.
And, as you know, Honey’s picture is in the dictionary next to “easy dog.” I think every day how much easier my life would be now with her instead of Snoopy. It would certainly be less lonely.
But I don’t love Honey more. Just differently.
It’s such a good lesson–love is easy. And love is challenging. And it’s always just love.
I think about you and Snoopy frequently. You’re spot on, of course, with your assessment about the challenge bringing so much love and pride. Each win feels absolutely incredible, and watching you and Snoopy as a team fills ME with such pride for you both!!
Ohmigosh, where do I start?! All my previous pups – and Zen – were/are easy compared to Zoey. None of them had separation anxiety, except maybe Bogie, but I wasn’t alone back then. I didn’t have to depend on pet sitters for trips to the grocery store, Lowe’s, or the Post Office.
Like Pamela said, “I don’t love [them] more. Just differently.” Zoey is, in every other way, a headstrong, sassy, independent girl. Like Ducky but with SA. And she is one of the most affectionate, loving pups I’ve ever had. Always tries to wedge herself in between Zen and me whenever he feels the need for snuggles. I used to blame myself for her SA, but a friend in the UK who is a behaviorist told me it just is what it is, with no one individual’s actions having caused it. So I work with her to make her less worried when I have to leave her alone for a few minutes. And she’s fine with another human being her “security blanket” when I have to leave the house. As long as Zen is also with her.
So, yes, I get it. And every night I miss having Ducky nearby. And miss having her gazing at me from her favorite spot on the couch. But I swear she uses Zen’s eyes to gaze at me at times because the look in his eyes is so very similar to hers. In so many ways she comes back to me in Zen. Like the movie, “A Dog’s Purpose”. I’m not saying that to diminish Zen or Ducky – I just fully believe that Ducky has been mentoring Zen from her spot at the other end of the rainbow. ????
I can hardly wait to get and read my copy of your book!!
“It just is what it is.” Wiser words were never spoken… and they apply to so much of life, don’t they?
The love is there and full even if it’s different. I guess I’m starting to think about all their personalities and quirks in terms of what I needed (need) to learn. Each dog–and cat, and kid, and horse, etc.–brings a new set of challenges for each individual human. What are the lessons I’m supposed to be learning here?
As you know by now, I tend to overthink all the things. (: But I’m beginning to think Penny is here to teach me how to better use my voice, out loud and with real people, instead of just my writing.
I still have moments of love/grief for my soul dog that passed away a long time ago (23 years ago now). She was a border collie called Jessie and she was the most incredible dog I have ever met. It amazes me how thinking about our beloved animals can suddenly come along and all the memories they bring. It’s wonderful that you have Penny as such a lovely companion.
Jessie sounds so wonderful! I’m sure she will be in your heart forever.
It amazes me, too, how much these animals impact our lives. How lucky are we to have dogs?
I will never stop missing any of my dogs, because I loved them so dearly and I grieve them deeply. However I am currently dog-less and feel guilty saying, it gives me a lot of freedom. Freedom I didn’t have when I was owned by them. So…not having a dog makes me sad and feeling a little freedom makes me sad as because I loved every minute of having a dog, but I’m also enjoying my life. I’m sorry if this made no sense.
YES! THIS! It makes perfect sense!! In fact, we hadn’t really been looking to adopt when Penny came along because I actually really wanted/needed a bit of that “freedom” after Cooper died. Obviously it didn’t work out that way, but I totally get what you’re saying and I can see how that freedom is so bittersweet. Lots of love, dear friend.
Sometimes I remember that Noel, my previous dog was easier to walk than my current dog Buffy. Both were abused/neglected, but Buffie so much more so. I have to be vigilant when walking as she is reactive to small dogs! We have been training for months with great success, however because of her strength I remain vigilant at all times when encountering small dogs on a walk. I wonder what it is like to walk a dog without any angst. However, her many great qualities and my commitment to her allows me the patience/stamina/willingness to continue to walk and train her daily. A lot of work though!
I wish we were closer so we could walk together! Penny is turning out to be a great ally for reactive dogs since she doesn’t really see or hear their reactions.
You do an amazing job, and I’m not sure that vigilance is ever a bad thing because there are so many other people with dogs who don’t put in the time, care, love, and attention that you do.
Thank you
I had 6 difficult, aggressive dogs that lived in two separate packs for their entire life. It was a huge challenge and exhausted me mentally, physically and emotionally every day. We lost the last one in Feb. 2023. It took over a year of being dogless to get our current dog, Chevy, a 10 year old Lab. Chevy is like your Penny, easy going, go anywhere, meet anyone dogs. And I am so grateful for not having all that worry and anxiety that I had with the six. My struggle is it’s kind of boring. Which sounds horrible, but I’m used to having all that chaos and mood swings and with Chevy everything is mellow and easy. lol It is so weird. And yes, I have felt that Chevy is better because he is who he is. Or that I love him more because he is easier to love. But really it’s just different.
No you are not alone. I think many of us have been there. Hugs to you. ?
Your post is beautiful and so true. The things that make deaf and deaf visually impaired dogs different, we (the deaf dog community) call them their “super powers”. There is no disability only the ability to love, be loyal and to be uniquely different. I have been blessed to have 7 little deaf unicorns in my lifetime and every single day I am amazed at their super powers. They can pick up the slightest nuance in body language and body chemistry of a human. I’m so happy for you and your family that you get to experience how much living with a deaf dog rocks!
Hi Maggie! Lovely entry!
It is obvious that each of our pets has his/her pecularities and quirks, and that is precisely what makes them unique. Tommy, my German shepherd, is special because he is ALWAYS happy, cheerful, and raises my spirits when I’m down. A bit too nervous in the presence of strangers, but he rapidly warms up to them. Also, going through a dramatic experience makes us really appreciate our pets’ company and value them even more. The thing is Tommy developed a swollen belly, a runny nose and lost his appetite last year. It was really painful both for him and me, so I took him to the vet. He examined my dog closely and had a poop sample for an analysis. A couple of days after, the vet told me he had followed the trail of symptoms back to a bacteria that had invaded Tommy’s intestines. We treated Tommy with antibiotics and, little by little, he went back to being my cheerful sweetheart again. Long live our pet animals!!
Kisses,
Alice