Dot sent me a beautiful message about her dog Abby, a fourteen-year old Lenore-like Yellow Lab who will be put down on Tuesday. She thanked me for writing about what a dog would say to us at the end because it comforted her. “We did give her a wonderful life, and she did the same for us. We will miss her.”

Dot says she didn’t do anything exceptional to get Abby to fourteen, “we just loved her and she loved us.” Dot has a humble and clear way with words, and I was touched by her love, clarity and perspective. “I’m not grieving outrageously,” she said, “I’m just grieving.”

I hope Dot continues to allow herself to grieve. It is an awful loss and it cuts very deeply. It need not be hidden or apologized for.

And I hope Dot can stay in touch with the idea that she gave Abby a wonderful life, and Abby returned the favor. That is the glorious tradition of humans and dogs. They are not here long, but they enter our lives and touch us deeply.  If they could talk, I do not believe they would want anything from us but to repeat the experience, and get and love another dog just as much. In this way, they do not die. They live on, for me, in the impact they have on us, and the ways in which they permit us to love so freely and unconditionally.

Godspeed to Dot, and to Dear Abby. I will be thinking of you both on Tuesday.