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No such thing as “just” a dog

“It’s just a dog.”

“It’s just a cat.”

“It’s not like it’s a person.”

I’ve heard these statements about the passing of a pet many times in my life, and they’ve always upset me. I’ve never known quite what to say, but have instead thought, “It seems only right you’ll never know the unconditional love of a pet. You don’t deserve it.”

Words like that seldom improve anything. But words like those written by my best friend in “The Memory of Joy in Present Grief“? They show so beautifully, so achingly, why there’s no “just” about it.

I only met Trudeau the once, when my son and I visited Mackenzie in Colorado. I was initially too entranced by the images of my best friend and son together to pay the dog much mind, but my son was captivated.

And now, I’m glad he was, because I carry a little Trudeau with me now that his own paws can no longer carry him here.






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