Thirteen years he’s walked beside me—
not always ahead, not always behind— just there,
steady as breath on a cold Kentucky morning.
He was there when the house was loud with fear
and I tried to outrun the bottle without breaking the glass.
He was there when we moved to that strange town,
and the cancer came like a stranger with a key to our life.
He watched while I made a job out of pretending to be okay,
and then sat quietly when I wasn’t.
He was there when my husband died—
when I looked out at the world
and couldn’t tell where the land ended
and the loss began.
He stood guard as I took care of my mother—
as her memory left in pieces
and I had to hold together what the illness tore apart.
He never looked away.
Not once.
He waited while I held hands that went cold,
kept watch through nights
when grief was the only thing moving,
hiked beside me when my heart was too heavy to carry on its own.
When a new love found me, he accepted the change
like old spirits do—
with quiet understanding.
He stood with us at Anglin Falls,
watched the vows without blinking or barking.
Wore his title—Dog of Honor— like he was born for it.
He attended the wedding luncheon on the patio of Boone Tavern,
sniffed every corner of celebration as if joy were a scent
he could finally breathe again.
And now, this cursed morning, I call the vet.
I make the appointment.
The kindest,
cruelest
thing I have ever done.
He’s hurting.
His body betrays the soul still alert in his eyes.
And I owe him
what he’s always given me—
dignity,
gentleness,
release.
No one tells you that the greatest love
sometimes ends with a phone call,
a circle on a calendar,
a soft blanket
in a quiet room.
But this is how
I say thank you—
with tears,
with trembling,
with every fiber of me that wishes I could give him
even one day as loyal,
as healing,
as full of grace
as the life he gave me.
Some say
he’ll cross the rainbow bridge.
I don’t know.
But I do know
he already carried me across it
a hundred times.
And next week,
I will carry him there
for he no longer can walk.
Hand on his fur.
Heart breaking,
but whole
because of him.
