Dogs Gone

This morning, I watched our neighbor down the hill walking a new puppy— all bounding energy and long legs trying to move in four directions at once.

I smiled at this joyful sight to start my day. But I also wondered: What happened to his old dog? The dog who was once a puppy too. The one I saw almost every morning. The one I waved to—though I’m sure my neighbor thought I was waving to him.

Growing up, I remember my parents reading the obituaries in the local paper, scanning for names and brief final bios of people they knew. But where do we go to read about a neighbor’s old dog, who may have taken his final walk? Where do we share the stories of our own dogs now gone—like Lulu and Dino, who delighted the neighborhood with their antics and died within months of each other?

One day, I’ll ask the neighbor about his old dog—and his new one.

And I’ll keep finding ways, in my heart and my life, to celebrate them all: the old and the new, the dogs still with us, and the ones who never really leave.