What Do You Do When Your Dog Grows Old?

What do you do when your dog grows old? When her steps grow slower, and the rhythm of her paws no longer keeps up with your hurried stride. When the pads that once raced through summer grass and winter snow are now thin, worn smooth from the years of carrying her faithfully beside you. When her ears tilt at your voice, but the sound arrives muffled, softened by time. When her once-clear eyes, those mirrors of your soul, are now clouded, milk glass skies filled with all the wisdom of her years. When the face you knew so well blooms with silver, the soft frost of age painting her muzzle and cheeks.

What do you do?
You love her.
You rub those tired feet that carried her across the mountains and valleys of your life, feet that followed you through heartbreak and joy. You kneel low, taking them gently in your hands, as though you are thanking the earth itself for lending her to you.

You praise her louder, your words spilling like sunlight over her weary frame. You tell her again and again that she is good, she is wonderful, she is everything. You say it as if your voice might stitch youth back into her bones.

You guide her now, the way she once guided you. Through dark nights and lonely roads, she was your compass. Now it is your turn to be the light at the edge of her dimming world. You steady her steps, your hands gently steering her away from confusion, your presence reassuring her that she will never walk alone.

You kiss the soft leather of her nose and cradle her head in your palms, feeling the weight of years, of love, of devotion pressed into every line of her face. You whisper the words you have always known but never needed to say out loud: I will not let you be lost, not now, not ever.

And when the day comes, when the air is still and heaven bends low to call her home, you lay her down with the gentleness of prayer. You hold her close, your tears falling like holy water onto her fur. You let her go, not because love runs out, but because love is brave enough to release.

You do so knowing that in every single heartbeat of her life, she loved you more. More than the treats, more than the ball, more than the fields she ran across. She loved you more than the sun, more than the stars, more than the passing seasons. She gave her one wild, precious life to you, and she never once regretted it.

When your dog grows old, you do not fear the end. You honor the story you wrote together. You carry it forward, etched into your soul like a hymn, and you remember:

She loved you more.
Always more