05/10/2026
***TRIGGER WARNING - DOG LOSS ***
A personal, and slightly rambling, message from me this evening, which I'm hoping will resonate with some of you. If not, please scroll on by - usual posting will resume soon.
I think it's fairly obvious that my life revolves around dogs - the Crossing Cottage Greyhounds (past, present and future), and also the dogs I share my life with at home.
This time last year, I was blessed to share my home with Eddie, Mungo, Jasper, Orson and Coco - 4 little lurchers and a willful greyhound. Heartbreakingly, we have already had to say goodbye to Eddie and Mungo, and today we have had to make the painful decision that our time with Jasper is coming to an end - we will be helping him on his final journey on Wednesday.
There is perhaps no harder decision I will ever make for a dog I love than deciding when it is time to let them go, but how do you know when the time is right? There is no simple answer.
We count the good days and the bad.
We watch for the little signs.
We ask ourselves whether they are still enjoying life, whether they are comfortable, whether they still have more good moments than difficult ones.
And still, a little voice inside us whispers “Just one more day. Please, just one more”
Just one more morning waking up beside them.
Just one more walk.
Just one more cuddle.
Just one more look into those familiar, trusting eyes.
Because how can we possibly say goodbye to a life that has been such an important part of our own?
We remember everything. The day they came home, the first night, the silly things they did, the adventures, the holidays, the muddy walks, the quiet evenings curled up together. The countless ordinary days that, looking back, were actually the most precious days of all.
We remember all the years we were given, and somehow they still don't feel like enough. It will never be enough.
And then comes the loss of hope - the hope that tomorrow might be better, the hope that perhaps there will be a little more time, the hope that somehow, impossibly, we won't have to make this decision at all.
Sometimes we desperately want them to give us a sign, but they cannot tell us. So we have to make the decision for them. And that is where the guilt creeps in - Is it too soon? Should I wait another week? Could they have another good day? Am I giving up too easily?
Or, perhaps even harder - Have I waited too long because I couldn't bear to let them go?
The truth is that there will never be a moment that feels completely right. Because we are not ready. We will never be ready.
Sometimes the kindest thing we can do is to accept that their life has become about our need to keep them, rather than their ability to enjoy being here. That is an agonising thing to admit when every part of us is screaming “Please stay!”
But love sometimes means putting their comfort before our own heartbreak. It means taking away their pain, even though it leaves us with ours. It means holding them close while our hearts are breaking and telling them that it is okay. It means keeping the promise we made when we first loved them - “I will always look after you.”, even when looking after them means letting them go.
And afterwards, there is an emptiness that is almost impossible to describe. You would give anything for just one more day.
One more day to stroke their head.
One more day to hear their sigh.
One more day to tell them how much they are loved.
One more day to look into those familiar, trusting eyes. Eyes so full of love.
But perhaps, hopefully, eventually, we understand something. That final day does not erase all the days that came before it. It is simply the last page of a story filled with thousands of moments of love. And maybe that is the price we pay for loving a dog so completely.
We know, from the moment we fall in love with them, that one day we will have to say goodbye. It is a terribly unfair price, but every cuddle, every walk, every laugh, every sleepy face, every wagging tail and every moment of companionship makes it worth paying.
We are lucky to have them in our lives and they are lucky to have us, so when the time comes, and you are sitting there wondering whether you can possibly make the decision, please remember - you are not choosing between love and letting go, you are choosing love one final time. Sometimes the greatest act of love is to say: “I wish I could have another thousand days with you, but I love you enough not to ask you to stay for me. Go peacefully, my darling boy, knowing that you are, and always will be, truly loved.”
That is the high price we pay for loving our dogs, and somehow, despite the heartbreak, I would pay it all over again.
Please keep my darling Jasper in your thoughts on Wednesday afternoon. He came into our lives almost 11 years ago - a tiny, scrappy little puppy who we "rescued" out of the boot of a car. Filthy, emaciated, full of parasites and with a nasty respiratory infection - it was touch and go for a while, but he grew into the most wonderful boy. We couldn't have wished for a better dog and I will be forever thankful for the time we have spent together.
Karen xx
