Is it morbid to think about the time when Izzy dies? I’ve been writing all week about grieving for the animals we love, and I though it might be helpful – and honest – to share how I think about it. Once in awhile, I make sure to think about when Izzy dies. How he was abandoned on a farm and lived mostly outside for years and on his own, this intensely social and attached creature. How he drove me crazy when he first came to the farm, jumping fences, tearing the house apart. How he has seen so much life and death in his hospice work, see so many people he loved fade and die. Been so gentle and faithful to the people in his care, gone to their funerals, sat by their caskets.

I think about the way in which he helped open me up to photography, when I was so frightened and sad that I did not see how I could get through a day, and then I’d say, “Hey, Iz, let’s go chase some sunsets,” and he would rush out the door and into the car and then when I got to the place I wanted to shoot, I would open the car door again and he would jump out and lie by the road – just as he is doing above – and watch me and keep me company on this cold and black nights when I thought my world had come to an end, and the light had gone from it.

I think of his media and book tours, all the TV studios he’s been to, all the bookstores, all the speeches, where he greets people and lies quietly and walks with me and guides me through my life. When I teach my story telling workshop Thursday, he will be there, helping the students be at ease.

And how he has come to love Maria and welcome her into our lives. When he dies, I will be there with him, and hold his head in my arms and kiss him on the nose and say goodbye and thank you. And he will not be gone from my life, because of all things he helped me do, and led me to and did with me. Those things will live as long as I do.

I don’t think about this a lot, but I do want to think about it from time to time. And my other dogs too. It’s how I deal with it.

Izzy is nearly seven, and will perhaps live another six or seven years, if he stays healthy. Most likely, I will see him go, so I picture that in my mind once in awhile, and think how I will say goodbye. And then think of what Izzy would most want for me. And then I will go out and get another dog.